Another long weekend approaches

I always find it interesting when long weekends approach and you must start considering all of your possible plans. What is the weather going to be like? Where are your friends going or planning? What items do you already have going on? Is it a beach, BBQ or sports day weekend, is there going to be a party or just going to bars to entertain at night? Sometimes a relaxing weekend is best suited for an exhausting week completed behind you.

The Bad News

There just doesn't seem to be good news anywhere these days. Our boys are being blown up in Iraq while there is no end in sight. Nuclear threats are popping up again. The economy has flopped into a rut which is widening every day. Housing is unaffordable and the mortgage rates have hit the roof. Global Warming is forcing monumental changes in how society functions. Recalls of medicine, food and toys from make us wonder what is safe these days. American society is being spoiled by creepy paedophiles and our language is being watered down by Spanish speaking immigrants who refuse to give up their culture for ours. It has become so painful to watch the news anymore, we should call it simply the "Bad News".

Un-real estate

Seemingly these days I need to be angry about a certain situation before I can write about it. I am trying to take a giant leap here and write while upset, not necessarily seriously, but certainly not angry. Everyday I glance on craigslist to research real estate offerings for sale in and around Boston and everyday I am disappointed to find that buying a property is out of reach. I don’t have the money to put down to buy anything desirable that would have an immediate resale value. How does a 2-bed condo on Comm Ave in Brighton cost 250 for unit that was built in 1910?

It is undeniable that Boston is headed towards the look of its European counterparts where city living is chic and expensive compared to its suburban neighbors. The notion of the inner-city will become a forgotten term for the 40s-90s when outward expansion from cities peaked and people settled in outlying areas in droves. Now long commutes, ridiculous traffic and perhaps the ennui of suburban life is driving people to turn in their garden tools for subway passes. The effect on the real estate market in the early part of this decade was a blessing to agents everywhere.

While the boom is over, the prices remain doggedly high and relent to come down to realistic price. The question of renting vs. buying leads me to want to own, but what neighborhood can I realistically afford? You have to look at areas that will boom, the next South End or South Boston. Charlestown is already too high. Chelsea’s prices are down, but Chelsea seems to evade any investment interest. East Boston’s prices are up, but the value just doesn’t add up. Dudley Square and Mission Hill are possibilities but I don’t want to wake up with my car gone in the morning.

Savin Hill and the Washington St. part of Jamaica Plain are both realistic but will either gain momentum in the future real estate market and be worth the investment. I want to live in Washington Square in Brookline or in the Fens/MFA area but both are out of reach at the moment. Meanwhile, I will be hitting Boston.com and Craigslist for the listings!

This week in Sports

So many things to write about these past few weeks but I just couldn’t find the time. There is the Michael Vick scandal. The big Celtics are back apparently after a monster trade that sent my favorite player in Ryan Gomes to Minnesota along with others for Kevin Garnett, one of the best ever. It’s really hard to imagine a move that could have put the Boston Celtics “back-on-the-map” after 20 years like this one. Then Iraq winning the Asian Cup that had united, albeit shortly, as no other person, event, party, or occupation could. But with the heat as it is (95 degrees) all I can really ponder is a nap and virgin relaxation.

Michael Vick is a huge disappointment. Any way you try to spin torturing dogs in a backyard can never change the evil face that this scandal has cast. No matter what black/white arguments or “if Tom Brady scenarios are presented, there is no escaping the huge let-down of this athlete phenom. I don’t even like dogs, but torturing animals and the methods used at the Vick estate for their removal are inhuman.

Another argument is that he did not know what was going on there, he is rarely even there. Can anyone really buy that excuse and be a sane person? Of course you know if there are dog-fighting facilities on your property. So either he was directly involved or had the intimate knowledge of what was going on. So let’s throw that one out.

Now here comes the black athlete excuse. I have to admit, a message from the NAACP was unexpected, and irresponsible. If this was a white athlete (Manning or Brady perhaps) the same shock and disappointment would follow. In my opinion the victim is not Vick or Atlanta fans, but caged animals that have no NAACP to back them up, or give them voice. No, the black athlete excuse has been overused and I think most of us, and I don’t speak for a certain race or ethnicity but for Americans, has been used up in this regard. Vick isn’t victimized by racist media or a vast conspiracy to bury the black athlete. This is his own poor judgment and misdoing and should stand to be punished if found guilty.

I am not convicting here before the trial, I am merely going by what facts have been released about the indictment. With the facts, it is hard for a reasonable person to deny the shadow of culpability on Vick. But please, stop making this a black/white issue. And if an argument is brought up that torturing dogs is a cultural difference then even more reason to bridge the cultural gap and remove this cultural behavior from America. There is simply no place for the torturing of any animals here.
----
I am not a greedy sports fan. The departure of Ryan Gomes from the Celtics ends a personal era shared by a few other New Englanders. I “discovered” Ryan in his freshman year score 18 points against a nobody Southern Connecticut State College. Since that night at the Dunk, he has been my favorite player. I couldn’t have been more excited seeing him drafted by my hometown team and develop as an NBA player. So when I heard the trade to Minnesota I couldn’t help but dislike it. Not because we aren’t now a legitimate contender with the addition of one great player…of course I want the Celtics to be successful, but I lose the one motivation that really made me watch the Celtics. Here it is: I would rather lose more than we win, but have Gomes, than win more than we lose without (and still not win a championship).
----
And now to the Iraq National Team’s victory over Saudi Arabia to win the Asian Cup.
The victory gave Iraqis something to cheer for, some hope and a bond of unity during a time of such despair. But good things sometimes don’t last long as the bombs were exploding again in no time. The outpouring of celebrations for their national victory proves that Iraqis want their country to succeed.

Cruising in NYC

It always feels like a free-for-all driving in New York. Whether it's the Henry Hudson (9A), the Cross Bronx, the infamous BQE or the LIE, and forget about the Long Island parkways, it always feels like a mad dash for the goal line, a race to an unending finish or something from an improbable action film where the hero comes so close but never quite gets rear-ended or makes a wrong move and puts the nose of his car into a wall. That is until today, where I was driving just over on the New Jersey Pike, dreaming about the Sopranos theme song looking at the industry of Perth Amboy or whatever is over there west of the Hudson and out of nowhere, Wham... ok it wasn't a truck or a car that hit me. A rock the size of a golfball flipped up into the air from atop a small truck and smashed a small indentation into my windshield, breaking the glass and starting the dreaded spiderweb. My surprise, fear and eventual anger almost got the better of me, but I regained composure and leveled the car back in my lane and drove on. Everytime I have driven in NYC, I fear the worst and this time, although not the worst, it was certainly an inconvenience. Broken windshield in all, I lugged into my location and wiped it from my mind and dove into work.

Life is elusive

I came dangerously close to receding again in the shoadows this friday night but I decided to pull myself out of it and convince my brother and his girlfriend to go to a local bar overlooking the waterfront of RI. We had a few Sam Summers or Mojitos, chatted quietly at a plastic table and then decided mutually that our time would be better spent somewhere else, perhaps home. This is not before the crowds of moron meat-heads and chicken-heads invaded the bar and polluted the sounds of pleasant sea breeze and gentle waves crushing the rocks at the seashore with banter of the brainless, worthless drivel. And I know, because I was trying to listen. I was trying to listen to what these obnoxious fools could possibly be spewing besides their self-indulging aura.com

When leaving, my brother's girlfriend said to me, "This is really not my crowd."
I nodded and thought as I gazed back towards all the patrons gathered on the rooftop deck and could recall the few times I frequented this place as a college student and as a recent grad combing the ranks for potentials. And I realized that this wasn't my crowd anymore either. Image isn't everything.

July 4 on a Wednesday

Independence Day is synonymous with BBQ, cookouts, outdoor drinking, lawn sports and time off. When we get Independence Day on a Wednesday you get a day off in the middle of the week, hardly a relaxing bloc of days. Think about it. If the 4th falls on a Monday or Tuesday you get a long weekend that ends with a day of sun, food and drink with the festivities thrown in. If it falls on a Thursday or Friday the weekend is kicked off by a full day of party and then the rest of the weekend to duplicate. With a wednesday, its not worth expanding either weekend by taking two days off, before or after and therefore, the 4th just sits alone, with only the weight of one measley day to celebrate our nations' founding. Have fun and remember to call a cab if you have too much because the boss may not look kindly to an unplanned vacation day by reason of the ol' slammer.

Business etiquette - When does personal become private?

There is an article in today (6/26/07) in The Wall Street Journal about the guy in the office or workplace that nobody knows what he/she "does" or anything about them. Their workspace is bland, nothing is on the walls, there is no picture of a girlfriend, wife or family and no sports pennants hang in view. The non-personal worker. People in the office do not know about this person's private life because he/she chooses not to ingratiate him/herself into the workplace. They stay away from everybody else when they can, i.e. reading in the stairwell, napping during lunch break or even just deflecting or avoiding inquisition into their personal details.

The other side, in my opinion is far worse. I don't want to hear of your failing relationship, your sick brother or that painfully unfunny joke. I hate to shoot the shit with colleagues that know next to nothing about which they proclaim intimate knowledge. Your baby is not cute and I don't really want to catch a lame drink and talk more about work because you are too uninteresting to talk about anything else. Talking about work is personal for these people. And disguising the undying pretense of company loyalty is nauseating. Say what you mean! People are not made to be happy slaving away making money for big shots. So be honest and stop telling me about how early and late you arrive and leave on friday before a long weekend. Gimme a f'n break.

In a work environment, it is easy to work with colleagues that you get along with but it is undeniably harder to get work done when you get along too well (unless you work in a world where the work you do is fun and then this blog topic wouldnt appeal to you because work must be awesome! Moving on...). I keep non-work to myself and usually work away from friends and family. I don't like to talk about my wife (don't have one), my family or my weekend binge with anyone to judge my lifestyle unacceptable for the company standard. And what is that? Why should the company have any control over my image after I leave the office? Well, they do, and that's a fact. So I keep it away. And now an article chastises those of us that don't put our personal identities out there for colleagues to judge? And I am wrong? No way. Companies need to learn to respect and protect employee's personal identities in the workplace without using their wish for privacy as an excuse for denying promotions. Since when did leaving your personal life, harm rather than help your standing in the office?

Blank Minds

I apologize for my loyal readers for not publishing a new article since May 24. A few things have occurred since then that have damaged my intimate relationship with family, friends, community, society and the world. First, I saved someone’s life as readers may have read about his death in a previous May article, I found out hours later that he was revived in the hospital and that the CPR that my co-worker and I gave to the man, saved him. Next I went to Las Vegas, a city filled more with greedy décor than actual sin. Sure you can gamble and buy prostitutes, but an Adult Playground? C’mon. I had a better time on weekends in Providence than I did in Vegas. This is partly due to the fact that I lost my phone the first night (morning actually, people don’t sleep there), blew a cool grand before the second day was up, and had to gawk at thinly covered, well-heeled women all weekend that I was in no state to approach or even dream about. Honestly there was something not right. It was like looking at a GQ magazine and seeing airbrushed beauties a little too good to be true that it didn’t give me a rise. In the case of Vegas hotties, their overbearing detailed makeup hid their average appearance and highlighted their blank personalities. I have to also admit that there is a lot more to Vegas and that part of Nevada than fake hotties, blackjack and sportsbook betting and drugs/alcohol. Believe it or not there are some fabulous interiors, gorgeous nature and entertainment for all. But, for what we did, I could have stayed home. My presence there, not by intention, but by fact, brought down the rest of my company. I apologize for that. I realized that Vegas with my friends, along with Spring break-type trips with my friends do not mesh with my sense of enjoyment. I refrain from mindless hedonism and self-destructive binging even though sometimes(rarely) I take part in both. I am glad for both my buddies celebrating their bachelor parties and I did enjoy the VIP banquet of alcohol before Taiwan invaded and a troop of Chinese professional party-goers started to leach off our festive generosity. But if I had won a couple grand, of course, Vegas would have been the best ever!

I will not speak of personal details of my life on this blog, but I have been going through a rough patch with my life. A pulled hamstring, a long distance visit and the workplace have all had their tears and pulls, especially the hamstring which has sidelined me from vital exercise and physical participation. For a few months I was the walking wounded, not doing anything but for the past few, I have actively tried to rehabilitate the ripped tendon with a therapist. Flat out, no lie or joke, this has been the most psychologically damaging event in my life. Small change, right? Wrong. I have been an athlete since day one, taking my leg from me, has also ripped my self esteem, confidence and half in two. I cannot run therefore I cannot: run, jog, play any sport to the level of pre-rip, exercise in most ways, and compete in any meaningful way in physical activities. It has hastened my health decline, accelerated my weight gain and left me with only contemplations of how to reverse the course. Not to mention I see myself as some has been retard plugging away at his computer, buying plastic models and DVDs to prepare myself for my personal Dark Ages ahead, sitting in a dank, dark basement, hopped up on paints and glue, furiously recreating Peiper’s destructive foray into Stavelot in 1944, or melting into the old sheets of my bed, watching Citizen Kane for the 15th time anticipating a forlorn alternative ending. These are the days of a 27 year-old has been, hiding from the complexities of life in search of a personal nirvana that will never come. Get a life! Whoa, not that easy. I feel like I am in a “chase” dream where no matter how fast I try to run I can’t get away, and in this case, no matter how much we all need to forge new bonds of friendships and relationships, we are mired in the past, rooted to the comforts of familiarity. I love my friends and family even more these days, but I can’t help but think that that love is actually holding me back from making my own decisions and leading my own quest for life. I hope one day, I can compartmentalize the life that was, with the life that will be and make them agree in some aspects and disagree in others, but sometimes I feel like that is an impossibility with the direction I go. In a world of passengers, I have become one, without a story and without a face in a crowd. And it’s becoming more crowded and my face is becoming more blank as time runs its unstoppable course.