Thanks to readers who have emailed me or commented, asking why I've been slacking for the past six weeks or so.
("Hey, whatever happened to that column you write?")
After a change in publisher and editorship, the Herald and Bristol Press decided to go a different route in getting local content on the page -- more actual news, less opinion -- and my column was dropped.
I'm sad that no one got to read my 3/13 column (below), because it highlighted local comic book shops that I think everyone should go see, and the opinions of expert fans (rather than just me), but otherwise, I'm happy with my experience as a columnist, and I wish the papers well. I think I mentioned in one of my columns once that my first job was delivering the Herald in my neighborhood, a job I inherited from a family down the street, and that they'd passed through at least two of their children before it came to me. The papers are a part of our local and personal history, and I'm relieved they're still going to be around.
As for me, I'm still around, too.
If you'd like to write to me directly, please do. My email address is posted at the top of this blog, and also here: aliciad.watkins@yahoo.com. I always enjoy getting comments, and interviewing people and hearing their (your) stories was by far the best and most fun part of this job.
Or, if you see me on the street, feel free to say hi...or to cross to the other side of the road, depending on whether you liked the column or not.
But either way, thanks again for reading.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
3/13/09:
Last week I suggested you start reading comic books, and if I did my job right (or if you’ve been to see "Watchmen"), you may have wondered where to begin.
I’m not an expert, so in search of the perfect entry point to the world of comics, I asked some: Nick Thompson, owner of Flagship Comics & Games, Stephen Lazorick, owner of Fables Comics & Collectibles and George Fietkiewicz, owner of Omni Comics & Cards, Inc.
“What would you recommend to a new reader?” I asked them, and I was instantly barraged with questions. What age was this reader? What sort of things was the reader interested in? What was the reader’s level of interest in comic books?
I guessed: “Adult? No experience with comic books? Interested in…gardening?”
But it became clear that my asking about “the typical reader” of comic books was as nonsensical as asking about the typical shoe-wearer. There are thousands of comic books of all kinds, suited to all ages and interests, as our shop owners kindly informed me, and many of them are excellent.
Still, in pursuit of a simple answer, I persisted. “What’s your favorite comic book right now?” I asked.
They each gave a different answer. Fietkiewicz’s current favorite is the Green Lantern series written by Geoff Johns. Thompson likes "Titans" and "Teen Titans." Lazorick reads “Y: The Last Man,” which is not a superhero comic.
Each owner described his favorite comic to me in some detail – all sounded interesting, but each was unique.
If I couldn’t get a single, easy answer, I’d try for a set of guidelines, so I asked the age-old comic book question: “DC or Marvel?” But our shop owners refused to take sides.
Thompson says he used to be "big into ‘Iron Man’ and ‘X-men,’" which are part of the Marvel universe, but recently he’s "shifted into DC because the writing’s a little better." All three shop owners cited good comics from each publishing house. No easy answers there.
That’s probably just as well. Many of us don’t know DC from Marvel, anyway, and in general, our shop owners say individual writers rather than publishing houses have become the focus for comic book fans.
Some fans follow Alan Moore, author of "Watchmen," from project to project, for instance, and Steven King’s "Dark Tower" comic book adaptations have kept selling at Fables. But you have to like superheroes or Steven King novels to be into those comics.
And it can be tough to break into a superhero comic midstream, too – many of the more popular storylines, like Batman or X-men, go back decades. Sometimes a movie is a good starting place, Fietkiewicz said, and cited “V for Vendetta" and "Batman: The Killing Joke" (the inspiration for “Dark Knight”). Thompson mentioned "30 Days of Night," which was made into a movie a few years ago.
There are also jumping-on points within the series: Thompson pointed out that “Invincible Iron Man” started up about six months ago, for new “Iron Man” fans, and Fietkiewicz said “Batman: Battle for the Cowl,” which comes out next month, is a good starting place.
Everyone mentioned "Watchmen," which is a complete story in one book — so you don’t have to buy multiple paperbacks, or wait for the next one to come out, which can be frustrating, Lazorick said.
But not everyone likes men in capes or women in knee-high boots. For the non-superhero crowd, there are other genres — crime, horror, memoir, adventure, etc. — and for all ages.
Unfortunately, there’s no single answer for everyone.
But our three local shop owners are there to help find yours.
I’m not an expert, so in search of the perfect entry point to the world of comics, I asked some: Nick Thompson, owner of Flagship Comics & Games, Stephen Lazorick, owner of Fables Comics & Collectibles and George Fietkiewicz, owner of Omni Comics & Cards, Inc.
“What would you recommend to a new reader?” I asked them, and I was instantly barraged with questions. What age was this reader? What sort of things was the reader interested in? What was the reader’s level of interest in comic books?
I guessed: “Adult? No experience with comic books? Interested in…gardening?”
But it became clear that my asking about “the typical reader” of comic books was as nonsensical as asking about the typical shoe-wearer. There are thousands of comic books of all kinds, suited to all ages and interests, as our shop owners kindly informed me, and many of them are excellent.
Still, in pursuit of a simple answer, I persisted. “What’s your favorite comic book right now?” I asked.
They each gave a different answer. Fietkiewicz’s current favorite is the Green Lantern series written by Geoff Johns. Thompson likes "Titans" and "Teen Titans." Lazorick reads “Y: The Last Man,” which is not a superhero comic.
Each owner described his favorite comic to me in some detail – all sounded interesting, but each was unique.
If I couldn’t get a single, easy answer, I’d try for a set of guidelines, so I asked the age-old comic book question: “DC or Marvel?” But our shop owners refused to take sides.
Thompson says he used to be "big into ‘Iron Man’ and ‘X-men,’" which are part of the Marvel universe, but recently he’s "shifted into DC because the writing’s a little better." All three shop owners cited good comics from each publishing house. No easy answers there.
That’s probably just as well. Many of us don’t know DC from Marvel, anyway, and in general, our shop owners say individual writers rather than publishing houses have become the focus for comic book fans.
Some fans follow Alan Moore, author of "Watchmen," from project to project, for instance, and Steven King’s "Dark Tower" comic book adaptations have kept selling at Fables. But you have to like superheroes or Steven King novels to be into those comics.
And it can be tough to break into a superhero comic midstream, too – many of the more popular storylines, like Batman or X-men, go back decades. Sometimes a movie is a good starting place, Fietkiewicz said, and cited “V for Vendetta" and "Batman: The Killing Joke" (the inspiration for “Dark Knight”). Thompson mentioned "30 Days of Night," which was made into a movie a few years ago.
There are also jumping-on points within the series: Thompson pointed out that “Invincible Iron Man” started up about six months ago, for new “Iron Man” fans, and Fietkiewicz said “Batman: Battle for the Cowl,” which comes out next month, is a good starting place.
Everyone mentioned "Watchmen," which is a complete story in one book — so you don’t have to buy multiple paperbacks, or wait for the next one to come out, which can be frustrating, Lazorick said.
But not everyone likes men in capes or women in knee-high boots. For the non-superhero crowd, there are other genres — crime, horror, memoir, adventure, etc. — and for all ages.
Unfortunately, there’s no single answer for everyone.
But our three local shop owners are there to help find yours.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Comments on 12/5/08 and 12/19/08, and responses
Average Joe wrote on Nov 14, 2008 7:11 AM:
"As someone who has always marched to the beat of a different drummer, I can sort of understand her point of view. Also there is something to be said about the lack of employer loyalty to employees, which has now existed for many decades. Add to that the fact that all too many in management have reached or exceeded the pinnacle of the "Peter Principal" ("In a Hierarchy Every Employee Tends to Rise to His Level of Incompetence.") and can make life miserable. As a sailor I know that it is sometimes good to be able to change direction with the changing winds to eventually get to where you want to go. My philosophy of "If you don't find your job easy (in spite of the hard work it may entail) and enjoyable, you shouldn't be doing it." still guides me. Yet unlike my resume which contains a long list of significant achievements, contributions to and awards from almost everything in which I've been involved (even at her age), I cannot help but suspect her resume would be "accomplishment lite". My impression from reading her column is that she is either suffering from chronic hippie beach bum syndrome....or is a high achiever in early onset of the Peter Principal. Then maybe she simply has failed to find her niche or is too young and naive to realize that at some point you have to buckle up and settle down if you want to start saving and planning for "retirement" rather then always relying on the generosity of patrons or ending up on the public dole. "
*****
Average Joe wrote on Dec 5, 2008 5:00 AM:
"This type of article reminds me of the "creative writing" class I took in high school (45 years ago) where we grasped at the most idiotic and outlandish topics in order to impress our teacher and get a good grade. What most would consider truly good creative writing (like that of the greatest, most revered authors this very same teacher raved about and to which level of writing she wished we could aspire in the "advanced reading" class) got a "C" or "D". Weird and way out (often infantile) trash got an "A". Guess it depended on what your definition of "creative" was...at the moment. (Where was Bill Clinton when we needed him the most?)
Perhaps articles like this one are what have contributed to the potential closing of the Press come the first of the year. I'm all for entertaining, even amusing columns, but this seems like a total waste of space. (Need we remind all you liberals that others are entitled to their opinions even if they disagree with yours? So please don't label me uninformed, unenlightened or anti anything.)
It does have redeeming social value though, since she openly reveals her true self as a radical left wing liberal by equating "Republicans", "enemies" and "town dumps" in the same category as negative factors. Perhaps if she got a real job where you actually had to work for a living and produce something of value or take responsibility as a business owner rather then be dependent on the generosity of patrons or public funding (note her past "employment" and claims to fame), she would not have time or inclination to write such whimsy! But then she does have the appearance and philosophy of a modern day hippie...with a zero "sleves" and a minus 10 "moms" factor plus a rating of a gazillion "cult miles" from the average Joe. "
*****
Objective Reader wrote on Dec 20, 2008 4:16 AM:
"Just can't seem to understand why these writings get to take up space in this publication. They are not informative, humorous, thought provoking, spiritual, debatable or entertaining. In the back of my mind it cannot help but be asked whose niece or daughter she is.
Is it me? I am told I have a great sense of humor, am willing to participate in a good debate on many subjects, inquisitive, appreciative of art and intellect, etc..... Nope, just can't wrap my mind around anything read in this column. I keep trying and then tell myself that I must just be getting too old to appreciate whatever the purpose of this space is intended to be. "
*****
Wow. Well, here's my admittedly unsolicited advice, Average Joe and Objective reader (I suspect you're the same person, though that may not be the case): Stop reading my columns.
Or maybe you already have, since it's taken me so long to get back to your comments.
Let me correct a few factual errors here, anyway, just in case people who continue to read have the same misconceptions, or in case you ever wander across my column blog archive by chance.
My column on scales meant to quantify emotions (sadness, dissatisfaction with geographic location, etc.) did not equate "Republicans" with "enemies."
It said, in fact, that "an active local hippie population [for hippies]" would be considered a benefit, while "an active local hippie population [for Republicans]" would be considered a drawback. Grammatically and intentionally, this meant that "hippies" might like to live near other "hippies," while Republicans probably wouldn't.
Of course, the whole thing was a joke.
Nobody's actually going around measuring their sadness in "kittens" -- though I have to say that these sorts of comments definitely increase my kitten count for the day significantly.
In fact, the column as a whole was meant to point out that these things can't be quantified, and our tendency to focus on math and science often leaves the more subtle art of self-description or expressing emotions out in the cold. (It did this satirically -- and while I don't know your age or type of sense of humor, I can say that a lot of people don't really enjoy or "get" satire. And that's fine.)
I'd say that quantifying "creativity" in the way your teacher did, Average Joe, falls in the same category of silly/ridiculous as the idea that we can quantify our emotions. It causes exactly the results that you point to -- with a teacher determining subjectively what s/he likes, or what s/he defines as "creative" and putting a quantity to it (an "A" or a "D").
The only possibly quantifiable elements in "creative writing" are spelling, grammar and word count. We can legitimately grade on these if we have standards to judge by. Luckily, we American English-speakers have dictionaries, grammar books and word processing programs (which count the number of words for us).
The rest is all opinion.
So let me point out, for the record, that my use of brackets ("[for Republicans]") causes my meaning to be clear -- not that I'm lambasting Republicans, but that I'm joking that Republicans probably won't like living near hippies -- and that my writing is impeccable in spelling, grammar and word count, insofar as I control it. (It gets edited after I submit it to the newspaper.)
I get an "A" for that.
You may fail me on content, and that's your right as a reader -- your opinion is just as vital and valuable as mine, as an American and citizen of the world.
As for my column contributing to the potential closing of The Bristol Press, well, it's nice to know that someone thinks a weekly 600-word column written by a local citizen can have that kind of impact. I hope it does, though I wouldn't wish that kind of responsibility on myself. I'd like to believe that individuals still have that kind of power over corporations, and that our opinions matter that much.
I am a hippie, after all, as revealed...wait, where was that "revealed"?
Still, I'm glad The Bristol Press didn't close. (Does the fact that it stayed open mean that people like my columns so much that they decided to keep it going? If I was to be responsible for its downfall, I'd like to be credited for its success...unless, as I do, you suspect that it actually had more to do with a new publisher appearing who realized the Press and The Herald could be financially viable papers with good coverage of local news and issues, than with the success or failure of my Friday columns.)
I'm sorry you weren't entertained by my column, and I'm certainly not going to label you anti-anything -- though you seem to be anti-your-old-creative-writing-teacher.
And I'm not going to delve into what very little I know of your personal work history (you imply you're a business owner?) to insult you personally. I won't attempt to divine whether your accomplishments are "lite" or not based on your three or four comments on my columns.
I don't know you that well, Average Joe, and if I did, I probably would find some value in what you've accomplished in your life even if the way you went about it was different than the way I would have. I probably still wouldn't accuse you of not having a "real job," or put the word employment in scare quotes, to imply you hadn't worked for your wages.
As you do to me.
I would remind you, as I reminded Cindy from Fairfield in the summer, that 600 words a week is not sufficient information to apply to the question of who someone is. You're welcome to question the premises of my columns, or even the broader question of why I get to write them. Unless I apply for a job with you, however, don't expect that you've gotten a complete resume from me, or that you can gauge even my political beliefs by what I write each week.
I gently remind you that you can't. Not correctly, anyway.
I'm also not sure what it was that made you label my appearance (a low blow, there, Joe) as a "modern day hippie's." Was it the tasteful, single necklace purchased at a downtown Plainville jeweller? Was it the part of the sweater bought at the Kohl's you can see in the fade-out headshot of me? Was it the haircut, which I got at a Supercuts in Southington?
Was it the glasses? I got those in China, true. (Though China doesn't have many hippies, modern-day or otherwise.) But I got the red ones because I'd had red glasses as a fifth-grader in New Britain, and those came from an eyeglass store downtown.
I'm not sure what passes for hippie-wear these days. Maybe it's the freckles or the blue eyes.
Maybe it's just my apparent age.
*****
To Objective Reader, I can only reply that though I consider the answer firmly embedded in the "none of your business" category, I will respond to the question that plagued the back of your mind (and your comment) in December: I'm the daughter of a disabled veteran.
She doesn't work for the paper. None of my relatives do.
In fact, I'm the only one in my family who has ever worked for the newspaper: I delivered it door-to-door in middle school.
Thanks for your comments, O.R. and A.J. -- though I hope you've freed yourselves from the obligation of reading my column, and so will probably likely not comment again. I wish you the best.
"As someone who has always marched to the beat of a different drummer, I can sort of understand her point of view. Also there is something to be said about the lack of employer loyalty to employees, which has now existed for many decades. Add to that the fact that all too many in management have reached or exceeded the pinnacle of the "Peter Principal" ("In a Hierarchy Every Employee Tends to Rise to His Level of Incompetence.") and can make life miserable. As a sailor I know that it is sometimes good to be able to change direction with the changing winds to eventually get to where you want to go. My philosophy of "If you don't find your job easy (in spite of the hard work it may entail) and enjoyable, you shouldn't be doing it." still guides me. Yet unlike my resume which contains a long list of significant achievements, contributions to and awards from almost everything in which I've been involved (even at her age), I cannot help but suspect her resume would be "accomplishment lite". My impression from reading her column is that she is either suffering from chronic hippie beach bum syndrome....or is a high achiever in early onset of the Peter Principal. Then maybe she simply has failed to find her niche or is too young and naive to realize that at some point you have to buckle up and settle down if you want to start saving and planning for "retirement" rather then always relying on the generosity of patrons or ending up on the public dole. "
*****
Average Joe wrote on Dec 5, 2008 5:00 AM:
"This type of article reminds me of the "creative writing" class I took in high school (45 years ago) where we grasped at the most idiotic and outlandish topics in order to impress our teacher and get a good grade. What most would consider truly good creative writing (like that of the greatest, most revered authors this very same teacher raved about and to which level of writing she wished we could aspire in the "advanced reading" class) got a "C" or "D". Weird and way out (often infantile) trash got an "A". Guess it depended on what your definition of "creative" was...at the moment. (Where was Bill Clinton when we needed him the most?)
Perhaps articles like this one are what have contributed to the potential closing of the Press come the first of the year. I'm all for entertaining, even amusing columns, but this seems like a total waste of space. (Need we remind all you liberals that others are entitled to their opinions even if they disagree with yours? So please don't label me uninformed, unenlightened or anti anything.)
It does have redeeming social value though, since she openly reveals her true self as a radical left wing liberal by equating "Republicans", "enemies" and "town dumps" in the same category as negative factors. Perhaps if she got a real job where you actually had to work for a living and produce something of value or take responsibility as a business owner rather then be dependent on the generosity of patrons or public funding (note her past "employment" and claims to fame), she would not have time or inclination to write such whimsy! But then she does have the appearance and philosophy of a modern day hippie...with a zero "sleves" and a minus 10 "moms" factor plus a rating of a gazillion "cult miles" from the average Joe. "
*****
Objective Reader wrote on Dec 20, 2008 4:16 AM:
"Just can't seem to understand why these writings get to take up space in this publication. They are not informative, humorous, thought provoking, spiritual, debatable or entertaining. In the back of my mind it cannot help but be asked whose niece or daughter she is.
Is it me? I am told I have a great sense of humor, am willing to participate in a good debate on many subjects, inquisitive, appreciative of art and intellect, etc..... Nope, just can't wrap my mind around anything read in this column. I keep trying and then tell myself that I must just be getting too old to appreciate whatever the purpose of this space is intended to be. "
*****
Wow. Well, here's my admittedly unsolicited advice, Average Joe and Objective reader (I suspect you're the same person, though that may not be the case): Stop reading my columns.
Or maybe you already have, since it's taken me so long to get back to your comments.
Let me correct a few factual errors here, anyway, just in case people who continue to read have the same misconceptions, or in case you ever wander across my column blog archive by chance.
My column on scales meant to quantify emotions (sadness, dissatisfaction with geographic location, etc.) did not equate "Republicans" with "enemies."
It said, in fact, that "an active local hippie population [for hippies]" would be considered a benefit, while "an active local hippie population [for Republicans]" would be considered a drawback. Grammatically and intentionally, this meant that "hippies" might like to live near other "hippies," while Republicans probably wouldn't.
Of course, the whole thing was a joke.
Nobody's actually going around measuring their sadness in "kittens" -- though I have to say that these sorts of comments definitely increase my kitten count for the day significantly.
In fact, the column as a whole was meant to point out that these things can't be quantified, and our tendency to focus on math and science often leaves the more subtle art of self-description or expressing emotions out in the cold. (It did this satirically -- and while I don't know your age or type of sense of humor, I can say that a lot of people don't really enjoy or "get" satire. And that's fine.)
I'd say that quantifying "creativity" in the way your teacher did, Average Joe, falls in the same category of silly/ridiculous as the idea that we can quantify our emotions. It causes exactly the results that you point to -- with a teacher determining subjectively what s/he likes, or what s/he defines as "creative" and putting a quantity to it (an "A" or a "D").
The only possibly quantifiable elements in "creative writing" are spelling, grammar and word count. We can legitimately grade on these if we have standards to judge by. Luckily, we American English-speakers have dictionaries, grammar books and word processing programs (which count the number of words for us).
The rest is all opinion.
So let me point out, for the record, that my use of brackets ("[for Republicans]") causes my meaning to be clear -- not that I'm lambasting Republicans, but that I'm joking that Republicans probably won't like living near hippies -- and that my writing is impeccable in spelling, grammar and word count, insofar as I control it. (It gets edited after I submit it to the newspaper.)
I get an "A" for that.
You may fail me on content, and that's your right as a reader -- your opinion is just as vital and valuable as mine, as an American and citizen of the world.
As for my column contributing to the potential closing of The Bristol Press, well, it's nice to know that someone thinks a weekly 600-word column written by a local citizen can have that kind of impact. I hope it does, though I wouldn't wish that kind of responsibility on myself. I'd like to believe that individuals still have that kind of power over corporations, and that our opinions matter that much.
I am a hippie, after all, as revealed...wait, where was that "revealed"?
Still, I'm glad The Bristol Press didn't close. (Does the fact that it stayed open mean that people like my columns so much that they decided to keep it going? If I was to be responsible for its downfall, I'd like to be credited for its success...unless, as I do, you suspect that it actually had more to do with a new publisher appearing who realized the Press and The Herald could be financially viable papers with good coverage of local news and issues, than with the success or failure of my Friday columns.)
I'm sorry you weren't entertained by my column, and I'm certainly not going to label you anti-anything -- though you seem to be anti-your-old-creative-writing-teacher.
And I'm not going to delve into what very little I know of your personal work history (you imply you're a business owner?) to insult you personally. I won't attempt to divine whether your accomplishments are "lite" or not based on your three or four comments on my columns.
I don't know you that well, Average Joe, and if I did, I probably would find some value in what you've accomplished in your life even if the way you went about it was different than the way I would have. I probably still wouldn't accuse you of not having a "real job," or put the word employment in scare quotes, to imply you hadn't worked for your wages.
As you do to me.
I would remind you, as I reminded Cindy from Fairfield in the summer, that 600 words a week is not sufficient information to apply to the question of who someone is. You're welcome to question the premises of my columns, or even the broader question of why I get to write them. Unless I apply for a job with you, however, don't expect that you've gotten a complete resume from me, or that you can gauge even my political beliefs by what I write each week.
I gently remind you that you can't. Not correctly, anyway.
I'm also not sure what it was that made you label my appearance (a low blow, there, Joe) as a "modern day hippie's." Was it the tasteful, single necklace purchased at a downtown Plainville jeweller? Was it the part of the sweater bought at the Kohl's you can see in the fade-out headshot of me? Was it the haircut, which I got at a Supercuts in Southington?
Was it the glasses? I got those in China, true. (Though China doesn't have many hippies, modern-day or otherwise.) But I got the red ones because I'd had red glasses as a fifth-grader in New Britain, and those came from an eyeglass store downtown.
I'm not sure what passes for hippie-wear these days. Maybe it's the freckles or the blue eyes.
Maybe it's just my apparent age.
*****
To Objective Reader, I can only reply that though I consider the answer firmly embedded in the "none of your business" category, I will respond to the question that plagued the back of your mind (and your comment) in December: I'm the daughter of a disabled veteran.
She doesn't work for the paper. None of my relatives do.
In fact, I'm the only one in my family who has ever worked for the newspaper: I delivered it door-to-door in middle school.
Thanks for your comments, O.R. and A.J. -- though I hope you've freed yourselves from the obligation of reading my column, and so will probably likely not comment again. I wish you the best.
Comment on 12/26/08, and response
Average Joe wrote on Dec 26, 2008 7:25 AM:
"Praise for "hard work" vs "smartness" produces better results in children. WOW! At last something of substance and applicable to daily life. No fanciful rambling (well, at least not totally). Alicia, you’re finally catching on. Just one question: What does this do to the philosophy of "Working smarter not harder." and is this technique as effective on adults but only if properly applied?"
*****
Ha! Well, Average, you're welcome. I'm glad I wrote something helpful to you, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to check over the Bristol Press comments and reply.
I'm not sure what it is I'm meant to be "catching on" to, as I write an opinion column rather than straight news or a how-to, and opinions (especially ones we disagree with) may often be viewed as "fanciful rambling," but I'm glad you think I've done it. Or did it, that one time.
The saying "work smarter not harder" actually has nothing to do with being called "smart" versus "a hard worker" -- it's about working efficiently, and thinking through the process required to accomplish what you'd like before starting the work, rather than just beginning a task without planning.
This is a skill like any, and it can be encouraged in the same way any other skill would be: "Wow, A.J., I like the way you thought about your comment before you posted it. You spent half the time you might have normally spent on it and the result was just as good, because you put the work in in advance and made sure to plan out what you were going to say."
For instance. (I don't actually know if you planned your comment in advance, though it sounds like you'd been thinking about it -- or at least thinking about my column as "fanciful rambling" -- for awhile.)
Thinking strategically is a skill, in short, and that's what people mean when they say "work smarter."
Adults also benefit from having their efforts praised rather than their "smartness," yes. Effective management technique should include this rather than empty gold-starred "you're so smart!" -- though I would suspect that more often, bosses err on the side of not praising at all, rather than praising the wrong way.
Hope you've found some other columns since December that had substance and applied to your daily life, A.J. -- mine or anyone's -- and thanks for commenting.
"Praise for "hard work" vs "smartness" produces better results in children. WOW! At last something of substance and applicable to daily life. No fanciful rambling (well, at least not totally). Alicia, you’re finally catching on. Just one question: What does this do to the philosophy of "Working smarter not harder." and is this technique as effective on adults but only if properly applied?"
*****
Ha! Well, Average, you're welcome. I'm glad I wrote something helpful to you, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to check over the Bristol Press comments and reply.
I'm not sure what it is I'm meant to be "catching on" to, as I write an opinion column rather than straight news or a how-to, and opinions (especially ones we disagree with) may often be viewed as "fanciful rambling," but I'm glad you think I've done it. Or did it, that one time.
The saying "work smarter not harder" actually has nothing to do with being called "smart" versus "a hard worker" -- it's about working efficiently, and thinking through the process required to accomplish what you'd like before starting the work, rather than just beginning a task without planning.
This is a skill like any, and it can be encouraged in the same way any other skill would be: "Wow, A.J., I like the way you thought about your comment before you posted it. You spent half the time you might have normally spent on it and the result was just as good, because you put the work in in advance and made sure to plan out what you were going to say."
For instance. (I don't actually know if you planned your comment in advance, though it sounds like you'd been thinking about it -- or at least thinking about my column as "fanciful rambling" -- for awhile.)
Thinking strategically is a skill, in short, and that's what people mean when they say "work smarter."
Adults also benefit from having their efforts praised rather than their "smartness," yes. Effective management technique should include this rather than empty gold-starred "you're so smart!" -- though I would suspect that more often, bosses err on the side of not praising at all, rather than praising the wrong way.
Hope you've found some other columns since December that had substance and applied to your daily life, A.J. -- mine or anyone's -- and thanks for commenting.
Comments on 1/23/09, and responses
willy lump lump wrote on Jan 25, 2009 7:55 AM:
" It would help if we taught today's kids some good old US history, so they would know how this contry has evolved. I have a young friend, a coollege student who didn't know anything about Pearl Harbor. She thought it was a battle in WW2. Didn't know we weren't at war when it happened. Can you imagine what she knew of the French and Indian War, the Revolution, war of 1812 and on and on? "
*****
I'd agree that history is important, though I'd add that we should be teaching world history just as much as American.
For one thing, America is a young country created in a larger global context. How can we understand our own revolution if we don't have the context of medieval and Renaissance times in Europe?
And how can we understand the times we're living in now without the histories of rising non-European powers? Americans seem to know very little about non-Western countries, and at least from an economic perspective, it's important that we learn.
Thanks, willy.
*****
Eugene wrote on Jan 28, 2009 11:49 AM:
" The only thing we need to teach our Children are the 3 r's.Spanish should not be it should a up to the country sending them here to speak English at their exspense. History should be home schooled which is also available in any library. One just hsa to watch the Jay Leno show and his Jaywalking skit to see what a waste this subject and others produce.6 assistants are the really needed? "
*****
Eugene, I'm afraid your policies on education are lacking, well, an educated perspective.
I've written about bilingual education before, so I won't get into that here. But suffice it to say that teaching kids other languages prepares them for an increasingly global workforce and also allows them to use their brains in new ways that will allow them to learn new languages more quickly, encourage parallel thinking and make them more versatile and better critical thinkers overall.
Also, countries don't send people to America, in general. People choose to come here on their own.
If as Americans we'd like to make sure we don't benefit from any of their experiences or allow recent immigrants to contribute to our society with any of their skills, then we should definitely do as you say and make sure they're responsible for learning English in advance, at their expense.
Alas, many of them will still thwart us, learn English despite our lack of encouragement or help, and become great contributors to American society. That's the cross we bear as a nation that attracts some of the best minds in the world. We're just going to have to learn to put up with it.
I've never heard of anyone suggesting we stop teaching history. This seems an excessively extreme view to me.
I'm curious, in fact, what "reading" (one of the "R's") would be worth in that case -- what would you like kids to learn to read, if not history, or, presumably, literature, which can also be found in any library? There would have to be some content for them to practice on, right?
What would you suggest they read?
" It would help if we taught today's kids some good old US history, so they would know how this contry has evolved. I have a young friend, a coollege student who didn't know anything about Pearl Harbor. She thought it was a battle in WW2. Didn't know we weren't at war when it happened. Can you imagine what she knew of the French and Indian War, the Revolution, war of 1812 and on and on? "
*****
I'd agree that history is important, though I'd add that we should be teaching world history just as much as American.
For one thing, America is a young country created in a larger global context. How can we understand our own revolution if we don't have the context of medieval and Renaissance times in Europe?
And how can we understand the times we're living in now without the histories of rising non-European powers? Americans seem to know very little about non-Western countries, and at least from an economic perspective, it's important that we learn.
Thanks, willy.
*****
Eugene wrote on Jan 28, 2009 11:49 AM:
" The only thing we need to teach our Children are the 3 r's.Spanish should not be it should a up to the country sending them here to speak English at their exspense. History should be home schooled which is also available in any library. One just hsa to watch the Jay Leno show and his Jaywalking skit to see what a waste this subject and others produce.6 assistants are the really needed? "
*****
Eugene, I'm afraid your policies on education are lacking, well, an educated perspective.
I've written about bilingual education before, so I won't get into that here. But suffice it to say that teaching kids other languages prepares them for an increasingly global workforce and also allows them to use their brains in new ways that will allow them to learn new languages more quickly, encourage parallel thinking and make them more versatile and better critical thinkers overall.
Also, countries don't send people to America, in general. People choose to come here on their own.
If as Americans we'd like to make sure we don't benefit from any of their experiences or allow recent immigrants to contribute to our society with any of their skills, then we should definitely do as you say and make sure they're responsible for learning English in advance, at their expense.
Alas, many of them will still thwart us, learn English despite our lack of encouragement or help, and become great contributors to American society. That's the cross we bear as a nation that attracts some of the best minds in the world. We're just going to have to learn to put up with it.
I've never heard of anyone suggesting we stop teaching history. This seems an excessively extreme view to me.
I'm curious, in fact, what "reading" (one of the "R's") would be worth in that case -- what would you like kids to learn to read, if not history, or, presumably, literature, which can also be found in any library? There would have to be some content for them to practice on, right?
What would you suggest they read?
Comment on 2/13/09, and response
Sally wrote on Feb 20, 2009 1:17 PM:
"I would expect this sentiment from a man. There certainly must be a reason.... And really, red roses and a romantic fancy dinner...a tired routine? You confuse routine with tradition. Do you also resent birthday cakes, corned beef and green beer on March 17, pumpkins at Halloween and on and on? Sorry that you feel so left out."
*****
I'm actually laughing out loud at this comment -- thanks, Sally, though I don't think you intended it to be funny.
I'm amused that expecting this sentiment from a man appears to be a criticism. Are men supposed to be less evolved than women in the way they approach Valentine's Day?
I agree that the stereotype is that men don't know romance. But I haven't found a lot of evidence for this being the case, at least not in my experience, and not compared to the women I know.
The red roses and romantic dinner being called "a tired routine" was partly a joke -- which I thought would become clear when I mentioned the marriage proposal as part of that "tired routine" (as though a marriage proposal would be a yearly occurrence). But I do think that a lot of the V-Day routines we've come to expect are, well, expected. And for my money, I'd rather have something more personal and thoughtful than that.
I don't really like cake, whether it's my birthday or not; I like corned beef, but don't drink, so green beer is out; I do like pumpkins, but not so much to carve as to boil and eat.
I'd prefer something else on those occasions, related to me rather than blind adherence to tradition. That's pretty much my point in the Valentine's Day column, as it was my point in the anti-Mother's-Day column I wrote last year -- not that we shouldn't have traditions, or that we shouldn't celebrate these things, like moms, or romantic love, but that we should be thoughtful about them.
I don't feel left out, though, Sally, and I don't resent Valentine's Day for any of the reasons you're probably supposing. (You seem to imply, along with the idea that I don't have the "womanly virtues" of caring about tradition or romance, that I may be bitter or lonely in being "left out." I'm actually neither one...and yet I hold my opinions, anyway.)
And I don't have anything against the traditions people love: I'm glad you enjoy red roses and dinners out, and I hope you had a great Valentine's Day that included both.
That's why I said in my column, "if, like me" -- you and I are just different, and we can both exist and do things our own ways, happily. Without being "men" and without resentment.
For my part, I had a pretty great time with my horror movie marathon.
Thanks for commenting, Sally.
"I would expect this sentiment from a man. There certainly must be a reason.... And really, red roses and a romantic fancy dinner...a tired routine? You confuse routine with tradition. Do you also resent birthday cakes, corned beef and green beer on March 17, pumpkins at Halloween and on and on? Sorry that you feel so left out."
*****
I'm actually laughing out loud at this comment -- thanks, Sally, though I don't think you intended it to be funny.
I'm amused that expecting this sentiment from a man appears to be a criticism. Are men supposed to be less evolved than women in the way they approach Valentine's Day?
I agree that the stereotype is that men don't know romance. But I haven't found a lot of evidence for this being the case, at least not in my experience, and not compared to the women I know.
The red roses and romantic dinner being called "a tired routine" was partly a joke -- which I thought would become clear when I mentioned the marriage proposal as part of that "tired routine" (as though a marriage proposal would be a yearly occurrence). But I do think that a lot of the V-Day routines we've come to expect are, well, expected. And for my money, I'd rather have something more personal and thoughtful than that.
I don't really like cake, whether it's my birthday or not; I like corned beef, but don't drink, so green beer is out; I do like pumpkins, but not so much to carve as to boil and eat.
I'd prefer something else on those occasions, related to me rather than blind adherence to tradition. That's pretty much my point in the Valentine's Day column, as it was my point in the anti-Mother's-Day column I wrote last year -- not that we shouldn't have traditions, or that we shouldn't celebrate these things, like moms, or romantic love, but that we should be thoughtful about them.
I don't feel left out, though, Sally, and I don't resent Valentine's Day for any of the reasons you're probably supposing. (You seem to imply, along with the idea that I don't have the "womanly virtues" of caring about tradition or romance, that I may be bitter or lonely in being "left out." I'm actually neither one...and yet I hold my opinions, anyway.)
And I don't have anything against the traditions people love: I'm glad you enjoy red roses and dinners out, and I hope you had a great Valentine's Day that included both.
That's why I said in my column, "if, like me" -- you and I are just different, and we can both exist and do things our own ways, happily. Without being "men" and without resentment.
For my part, I had a pretty great time with my horror movie marathon.
Thanks for commenting, Sally.
Comment on 2/27/09 and response
Chewenlai wrote on Mar 4, 2009 4:04 AM:
"You look like you could use all the help A Dong could provide. I used a ruler once, but that didn't make me wish I was the King of England for the rest of me life. If you are so enamored of peanut-walnut milk, feed your cow some Jiff, poke its teats with a sack of walnuts and enjoy the ensooooing results. Of course it would fall short of the high standards of the Chinese people, but in America we have a lot to learn."
*****
I'm posting this comment here not so much because I have a response, but because I found it amusing.
I can use all the help A Dong provides. I like that store; I go there pretty frequently, and I'm always pleased with the things I find there. I've never claimed to be a chef, in any culture, and making jiaozi (dumpling) wrappers, for instance, would be impossible for me -- thank goodness I don't have to.
I've tried to make my own hot pot mix and not done very well at that, either.
I think your recipe for peanut-walnut milk probably leaves a lot to be desired (like scientific support), but I like the use of "ensooooing." And I'm going to keep my eye out for it, as usual, at A Dong.
I'm not sure what the King of England or "high standards" have to do with my column, which was much too short to deal with any of the controversy over trade with China, FDA standards and their implementation in foreign countries, American-Chinese political relations of any kind, or even dumplings.
I only wish I could have included something about that last one. The other topics aren't suited to a weekly 600-word column written by a citizen.
I don't claim to be a chef, a ruler, a standard-maker or a political expert of any kind. I'm a writer. I write about what I know...like Ramen noodles.
"You look like you could use all the help A Dong could provide. I used a ruler once, but that didn't make me wish I was the King of England for the rest of me life. If you are so enamored of peanut-walnut milk, feed your cow some Jiff, poke its teats with a sack of walnuts and enjoy the ensooooing results. Of course it would fall short of the high standards of the Chinese people, but in America we have a lot to learn."
*****
I'm posting this comment here not so much because I have a response, but because I found it amusing.
I can use all the help A Dong provides. I like that store; I go there pretty frequently, and I'm always pleased with the things I find there. I've never claimed to be a chef, in any culture, and making jiaozi (dumpling) wrappers, for instance, would be impossible for me -- thank goodness I don't have to.
I've tried to make my own hot pot mix and not done very well at that, either.
I think your recipe for peanut-walnut milk probably leaves a lot to be desired (like scientific support), but I like the use of "ensooooing." And I'm going to keep my eye out for it, as usual, at A Dong.
I'm not sure what the King of England or "high standards" have to do with my column, which was much too short to deal with any of the controversy over trade with China, FDA standards and their implementation in foreign countries, American-Chinese political relations of any kind, or even dumplings.
I only wish I could have included something about that last one. The other topics aren't suited to a weekly 600-word column written by a citizen.
I don't claim to be a chef, a ruler, a standard-maker or a political expert of any kind. I'm a writer. I write about what I know...like Ramen noodles.
Comment on 2/27/09, and response
Alex wrote on Mar 5, 2009 12:12 AM:
"I hate to nitpick, but yes there was in fact a "General Tso" and the reason most Chinese people would not have heard of them is because not everyone is a historian.
Zuǒ Zōngtáng, aka General Tso, was a General during the time of the Taiping Rebellion. Along with Zeng Guofan, General Tso was able to put a halt to the rebellion by dethroning Hong Tianguifu, the leader of the rebel forces.
The real let down of this story is that Zuǒ Zōngtáng, the man who was largely responsible for ending a rebellion that cost 20 million lives, is remember through a chicken dish.
For more info on Zuǒ Zōngtáng (General Tso) check out Encyclopedia Britanica, lots of great stuff. "
*****
Yes, true! There was a real, historical General Tso.
My column didn't say there wasn't one -- it was meant to say exactly what you point out, in part, which is that not everyone is a historian. And while Americans might think General Tso is so famous that he needs no introduction, the Chinese people I talked to who did know about the general said that to Chinese, he's not that well known. They called him "a small figure" in history and said they were surprised that Americans knew anything about him.
None of the Chinese I talked to had ever eaten "General Tso's chicken," though that doesn't mean it doesn't exist in China. It only means that none of the people who I asked in the provinces in which I taught (Sichuan and Ningxia) had heard of or eaten it. But ask an American who's been to a Chinese restaurant, and most of them will say they've tried it, or at least heard of it.
My point was that American Chinese food isn't the same as what people are eating in China. I didn't have space to go into Chinese history, so I'm glad you added your comment.
Thanks, Alex.
"I hate to nitpick, but yes there was in fact a "General Tso" and the reason most Chinese people would not have heard of them is because not everyone is a historian.
Zuǒ Zōngtáng, aka General Tso, was a General during the time of the Taiping Rebellion. Along with Zeng Guofan, General Tso was able to put a halt to the rebellion by dethroning Hong Tianguifu, the leader of the rebel forces.
The real let down of this story is that Zuǒ Zōngtáng, the man who was largely responsible for ending a rebellion that cost 20 million lives, is remember through a chicken dish.
For more info on Zuǒ Zōngtáng (General Tso) check out Encyclopedia Britanica, lots of great stuff. "
*****
Yes, true! There was a real, historical General Tso.
My column didn't say there wasn't one -- it was meant to say exactly what you point out, in part, which is that not everyone is a historian. And while Americans might think General Tso is so famous that he needs no introduction, the Chinese people I talked to who did know about the general said that to Chinese, he's not that well known. They called him "a small figure" in history and said they were surprised that Americans knew anything about him.
None of the Chinese I talked to had ever eaten "General Tso's chicken," though that doesn't mean it doesn't exist in China. It only means that none of the people who I asked in the provinces in which I taught (Sichuan and Ningxia) had heard of or eaten it. But ask an American who's been to a Chinese restaurant, and most of them will say they've tried it, or at least heard of it.
My point was that American Chinese food isn't the same as what people are eating in China. I didn't have space to go into Chinese history, so I'm glad you added your comment.
Thanks, Alex.
Friday, March 6, 2009
3/6/09: Graphic novels really are good literature
If you’re like me, you’re reading this column either in line at the local cineplex while waiting for your prepurchased ticket to be torn before you’re allowed to find the best possible theater seat from which to view the “Watchmen” movie released today, or while being distracted by mental review of its triumphs and flaws after having seen it last night at a midnight screening, or both.
That’s right. Sometimes I read over my own columns, occasionally while waiting in long lines.
But if you’re thinking about whether that makes me narcissistic or obsessive, or both, you’re missing the point, which is that I can’t wait to see this movie.
If it’s half as fascinating and intricate as the graphic novel it’s based on, it will be well worth watching.
For the “true believers” in comic books, I should admit that I’m a Janey-come-lately to the whole scene: I started reading comic books in anthology form around this time last year, with the first volume of “Cerebus,” a 300-issue independent comic created by Canadian Dave Sim.
While having read the entire “Cerebus” series should earn me some nerd cred, I don’t have the background in Silver Age comics that true lifelong fans have. Before last year, Comic Book Guy from “The Simpsons” was my only real contact with comic book fans — and he’s a cartoon. But since then, I’ve come to appreciate what comic books can do.
Traditionally, comic books haven’t gotten much respect, and neither have the people who love them.
The knee-jerk impulse to dismiss comic books “because they have pictures” might come partly from residual guilt over preferring film strips to lectures, or field trips to, well, anything, in school, combined with the axiom “reading is good for you.” But there’s no evidence that children or adults learn best from line after line of text. In fact, there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary.
We can stop feeling guilty for liking to look at pictures, in other words.
And beyond learning styles, graphic novels are able to tell stories that neither books nor movies can tell — because description of the level of visual detail included in even a single panel of comic is impossibly dense in an ordinary novel, while moving pictures go so quickly as to make serious frame-by-frame study impractical.
Alan Moore, writer of “Watchmen,” is largely credited as the guy who figured out how to tell a story that could only be told in comic form. It was considered the unfilmable comic book.
Now, of course, it’s been filmed.
But that kind of genre bending is just what comic books these days are thriving on.
Beyond the summer box office successes of “The Dark Knight” and “Iron Man,” which were based on comic book series, memoir comics such as Marjane Satrapi’s “Persepolis” have garnered critical acclaim and new fans — new fans who dig back into the oeuvre of artists who preceded their favorites and discover an entire alternate history of literature.
And it is literature. That wasn’t a typo or poor word choice.
The characterization of memoir comics isn’t in question; these are actual people, who choose to tell their stories with pictures included, and to some extent, this still-emerging subgenre has legitimated what most people see as a world of superheroes.
But fictional comics — even superhero ones, though those aren’t nearly the breadth of comic art — don’t need legitimizing, any more than text-only fiction does. George Eliot’s “Middlemarch” is one of my all-time favorite novels, but it has nothing on “Watchmen” in cast of characters, plotting or execution.
So if you’re not in line for “Watchmen” right now, I recommend it.
Better yet, read the book.
That’s right. Sometimes I read over my own columns, occasionally while waiting in long lines.
But if you’re thinking about whether that makes me narcissistic or obsessive, or both, you’re missing the point, which is that I can’t wait to see this movie.
If it’s half as fascinating and intricate as the graphic novel it’s based on, it will be well worth watching.
For the “true believers” in comic books, I should admit that I’m a Janey-come-lately to the whole scene: I started reading comic books in anthology form around this time last year, with the first volume of “Cerebus,” a 300-issue independent comic created by Canadian Dave Sim.
While having read the entire “Cerebus” series should earn me some nerd cred, I don’t have the background in Silver Age comics that true lifelong fans have. Before last year, Comic Book Guy from “The Simpsons” was my only real contact with comic book fans — and he’s a cartoon. But since then, I’ve come to appreciate what comic books can do.
Traditionally, comic books haven’t gotten much respect, and neither have the people who love them.
The knee-jerk impulse to dismiss comic books “because they have pictures” might come partly from residual guilt over preferring film strips to lectures, or field trips to, well, anything, in school, combined with the axiom “reading is good for you.” But there’s no evidence that children or adults learn best from line after line of text. In fact, there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary.
We can stop feeling guilty for liking to look at pictures, in other words.
And beyond learning styles, graphic novels are able to tell stories that neither books nor movies can tell — because description of the level of visual detail included in even a single panel of comic is impossibly dense in an ordinary novel, while moving pictures go so quickly as to make serious frame-by-frame study impractical.
Alan Moore, writer of “Watchmen,” is largely credited as the guy who figured out how to tell a story that could only be told in comic form. It was considered the unfilmable comic book.
Now, of course, it’s been filmed.
But that kind of genre bending is just what comic books these days are thriving on.
Beyond the summer box office successes of “The Dark Knight” and “Iron Man,” which were based on comic book series, memoir comics such as Marjane Satrapi’s “Persepolis” have garnered critical acclaim and new fans — new fans who dig back into the oeuvre of artists who preceded their favorites and discover an entire alternate history of literature.
And it is literature. That wasn’t a typo or poor word choice.
The characterization of memoir comics isn’t in question; these are actual people, who choose to tell their stories with pictures included, and to some extent, this still-emerging subgenre has legitimated what most people see as a world of superheroes.
But fictional comics — even superhero ones, though those aren’t nearly the breadth of comic art — don’t need legitimizing, any more than text-only fiction does. George Eliot’s “Middlemarch” is one of my all-time favorite novels, but it has nothing on “Watchmen” in cast of characters, plotting or execution.
So if you’re not in line for “Watchmen” right now, I recommend it.
Better yet, read the book.
Friday, February 27, 2009
2/27/09:
If you’ve ever ordered General Tso’s Chicken and found yourself wondering if people in China were eating it, too, here’s your answer: No.
Chinese people were confused when my teammate asked for General Tso’s Chicken, and finally, desperately, if anyone had ever even heard of a General Tso.
In fact, most of the food you get at Chinese restaurants outside of Chinatowns in larger cities have been Americanized to the point of becoming almost a different cuisine.
Of course, the foods you get in Chinatowns in larger cities may also be different cuisines: China recognizes five major regional cuisines, including Cantonese, Hunan and Sichuan (Szechuan), which seem the most popularly available here.
But just because a restaurant calls itself "Szechuan" doesn’t mean it’s serving the same thing Sichuan people eat. If you’re interested in getting the most authentic experience possible, ask where the chef came from and request dishes from that region; some dishes, such as Chongching chicken or Yangzhou fried rice, are associated with a single city, and probably won’t show up on the menu — but they may be available if your chef is from Chongching or Yangzhou.
I’ve had excellent noodles at Peking Kitchen in Beacon, N.Y. off I-84, and more locally, Szechuan Tokyo in West Hartford has good authentic Sichuan food.
But in general, I’ve found that if you want authentic Chinese food, your best bet is to make it yourself.
There’s help. A Dong supermarket, down the street from Szechuan Tokyo in West Hartford, has most of what you’d need to pull off a good Chinese meal, including otherwise hard-to-find vegetables like rape or lotus, hot pot mixes and disposable chopsticks. You’ll know you’re in the right place when you step in, turn left and are greeted by Peking ducks and most of a pig hanging from hooks near the bakery counter.
Now here’s what you can make, authentically, with what you find there.
Well, here are the easiest things, anyway.
Hot pot: Buy a mix and squeeze it out into a pot or wok of boiling water set in the middle of the table where you and your guests will eat.
It will be spicy, and a good mix will look gross going into the pot. But your only prep will be cutting various vegetables — Chinese cabbage, rape, turnip, snap peas — and meats — beef, fish balls, Chinese dumplings — into small enough pieces to cook quickly and eat in a single bite.
Guests can toss in whatever looks good to them and fish it out (preferably with a slotted spoon) when it’s done.
Ramen noodles: No kidding. Though saying Ramen noodles are authentic is as shocking as going to Rome and being served SpaghettiO’s, it’s true. Chinese people eat "kuai mian," or "fast noodles," when they can’t get home-cooked or a sit-down meal — if you’re riding a train, where boiling water is readily available from a spout on each car, or if you’re a poor college student, Ramen noodles are likely a staple of your diet in China.
I think Ramen noodles are best eaten dry and crunchy, whatever continent you’re on, but I’ve never met anyone who ate fast noodles this way who wasn’t from New Britain.
White rice, cooked in a rice cooker: Brown rice is not authentic Chinese; neither is "wild rice."
Rice cookers are incredibly easy to use, quick and do a perfect job every time.
Drinks: You can pick up an aloe vera drink or chrysanthemum tea at A Dong, or you can just drink your water boiling hot. I have yet to find one of my favorite drinks, peanut-walnut milk, in America.
But when I do, I’ll let you know.
Chinese people were confused when my teammate asked for General Tso’s Chicken, and finally, desperately, if anyone had ever even heard of a General Tso.
In fact, most of the food you get at Chinese restaurants outside of Chinatowns in larger cities have been Americanized to the point of becoming almost a different cuisine.
Of course, the foods you get in Chinatowns in larger cities may also be different cuisines: China recognizes five major regional cuisines, including Cantonese, Hunan and Sichuan (Szechuan), which seem the most popularly available here.
But just because a restaurant calls itself "Szechuan" doesn’t mean it’s serving the same thing Sichuan people eat. If you’re interested in getting the most authentic experience possible, ask where the chef came from and request dishes from that region; some dishes, such as Chongching chicken or Yangzhou fried rice, are associated with a single city, and probably won’t show up on the menu — but they may be available if your chef is from Chongching or Yangzhou.
I’ve had excellent noodles at Peking Kitchen in Beacon, N.Y. off I-84, and more locally, Szechuan Tokyo in West Hartford has good authentic Sichuan food.
But in general, I’ve found that if you want authentic Chinese food, your best bet is to make it yourself.
There’s help. A Dong supermarket, down the street from Szechuan Tokyo in West Hartford, has most of what you’d need to pull off a good Chinese meal, including otherwise hard-to-find vegetables like rape or lotus, hot pot mixes and disposable chopsticks. You’ll know you’re in the right place when you step in, turn left and are greeted by Peking ducks and most of a pig hanging from hooks near the bakery counter.
Now here’s what you can make, authentically, with what you find there.
Well, here are the easiest things, anyway.
Hot pot: Buy a mix and squeeze it out into a pot or wok of boiling water set in the middle of the table where you and your guests will eat.
It will be spicy, and a good mix will look gross going into the pot. But your only prep will be cutting various vegetables — Chinese cabbage, rape, turnip, snap peas — and meats — beef, fish balls, Chinese dumplings — into small enough pieces to cook quickly and eat in a single bite.
Guests can toss in whatever looks good to them and fish it out (preferably with a slotted spoon) when it’s done.
Ramen noodles: No kidding. Though saying Ramen noodles are authentic is as shocking as going to Rome and being served SpaghettiO’s, it’s true. Chinese people eat "kuai mian," or "fast noodles," when they can’t get home-cooked or a sit-down meal — if you’re riding a train, where boiling water is readily available from a spout on each car, or if you’re a poor college student, Ramen noodles are likely a staple of your diet in China.
I think Ramen noodles are best eaten dry and crunchy, whatever continent you’re on, but I’ve never met anyone who ate fast noodles this way who wasn’t from New Britain.
White rice, cooked in a rice cooker: Brown rice is not authentic Chinese; neither is "wild rice."
Rice cookers are incredibly easy to use, quick and do a perfect job every time.
Drinks: You can pick up an aloe vera drink or chrysanthemum tea at A Dong, or you can just drink your water boiling hot. I have yet to find one of my favorite drinks, peanut-walnut milk, in America.
But when I do, I’ll let you know.
Friday, February 20, 2009
2/20/09: Making a culinary dash through the political menu
In late 2007, before the GOP presidential nominee had been chosen, I ordered Mitt Romney at Mr. Bartley’s Gourmet Burgers in Cambridge, MA. It was a Swiss cheese burger with onions and came with a pile of onion rings that spilled off the plate and couldn’t be finished even with the help of my six table-mates.
If Al Franken had been on the menu then, I may have ordered him — though more in support of his sense of humor than of the concept of a veggie burger with pineapple on it.
Wishing I had another Mitt Romney to feast on this week, I began to wonder: What if our Connecticut politicians had sandwiches named after them?
A President Obama burger would be pretty easy — a regular, all-American burger delivered by electric car over an improved highway system, probably with a side salad. The burger might come with a note indicating that its creation had been partly subsidized by federal intervention and had helped to maintain almost 4 million jobs.
If you asked if you could substitute fries for the salad, or add mushrooms or pepper jack cheese to the Obama burger, the waitress might be required to reply "yes, you can." But she would almost certainly charge you for the extras.
A Sen. Christopher Dodd burger wouldn’t likely be a beef burger at all; thanks to his emphasis on our coastline conservation and defense, his sandwich would be grilled tuna. Paying in cash would lead to a relatively uneventful meal, but if you used your credit card, you’d be treated to a free copy of Dodd’s credit card protections strengthening bill and offered the chance to sign it along with your receipt, becoming a co-sponsor.
It wouldn’t matter what the menu description of a Sen. Joseph Lieberman burger was. Whatever it appeared to be when you ordered it, the waiter would bring something entirely different to the table and insist that you eat it anyway.
A John Rowland would be a pulled pork sandwich with steak fries, but halfway through the meal, your server would remove your plate and replace it with a small garden salad — no bacon bits allowed.
A Gov. M. Jodi Rell, on the other hand, would be a box of instant store-brand macaroni and cheese, mixed up in a large bowl and served family-style, possibly with a side of canned peas.
"Like many families in Connecticut," your server would announce, "we have to cut back on extras." Then he would hand you each a spoon and ask that you bus your own table when you’re finished.
A Rep. Chris Murphy burger would be served by Murphy himself, and though you’d have to call in the order to his Washington, D.C. office, you could ask for anything you wanted on it.
If Murphy’s office didn’t have what you were looking for, at least he would explain how he’d fought for your right to a coleslaw side dish and would continue that fight until coleslaw was made available to the people of the fifth district.
A Rep. John Larson burger would be typical beef, but when you paid, you’d receive a notice that Congress would soon be looking into the question of how burgers got to be so expensive. (The burger would be taxed twice to cover the cost of investigating.)
As for state senators and representatives, city and town council members, I’m betting that if you contacted your local representives, they’d meet you in your favorite local restaurant to shoot the breeze and hear your concerns — and you could ask them yourself what kind of sandwiches they’d be.
If Al Franken had been on the menu then, I may have ordered him — though more in support of his sense of humor than of the concept of a veggie burger with pineapple on it.
Wishing I had another Mitt Romney to feast on this week, I began to wonder: What if our Connecticut politicians had sandwiches named after them?
A President Obama burger would be pretty easy — a regular, all-American burger delivered by electric car over an improved highway system, probably with a side salad. The burger might come with a note indicating that its creation had been partly subsidized by federal intervention and had helped to maintain almost 4 million jobs.
If you asked if you could substitute fries for the salad, or add mushrooms or pepper jack cheese to the Obama burger, the waitress might be required to reply "yes, you can." But she would almost certainly charge you for the extras.
A Sen. Christopher Dodd burger wouldn’t likely be a beef burger at all; thanks to his emphasis on our coastline conservation and defense, his sandwich would be grilled tuna. Paying in cash would lead to a relatively uneventful meal, but if you used your credit card, you’d be treated to a free copy of Dodd’s credit card protections strengthening bill and offered the chance to sign it along with your receipt, becoming a co-sponsor.
It wouldn’t matter what the menu description of a Sen. Joseph Lieberman burger was. Whatever it appeared to be when you ordered it, the waiter would bring something entirely different to the table and insist that you eat it anyway.
A John Rowland would be a pulled pork sandwich with steak fries, but halfway through the meal, your server would remove your plate and replace it with a small garden salad — no bacon bits allowed.
A Gov. M. Jodi Rell, on the other hand, would be a box of instant store-brand macaroni and cheese, mixed up in a large bowl and served family-style, possibly with a side of canned peas.
"Like many families in Connecticut," your server would announce, "we have to cut back on extras." Then he would hand you each a spoon and ask that you bus your own table when you’re finished.
A Rep. Chris Murphy burger would be served by Murphy himself, and though you’d have to call in the order to his Washington, D.C. office, you could ask for anything you wanted on it.
If Murphy’s office didn’t have what you were looking for, at least he would explain how he’d fought for your right to a coleslaw side dish and would continue that fight until coleslaw was made available to the people of the fifth district.
A Rep. John Larson burger would be typical beef, but when you paid, you’d receive a notice that Congress would soon be looking into the question of how burgers got to be so expensive. (The burger would be taxed twice to cover the cost of investigating.)
As for state senators and representatives, city and town council members, I’m betting that if you contacted your local representives, they’d meet you in your favorite local restaurant to shoot the breeze and hear your concerns — and you could ask them yourself what kind of sandwiches they’d be.
Friday, February 13, 2009
2/13/09: Romance isn't dead, but it can be a horror
Well, it’s that time of year again.
That’s right: Friday the 13th.
Right before Valentine’s Day.
If, like me, you’ve never cottoned to a day meant for surprise romantic gestures that comes like clockwork every year, here are some ways to ward off Valentine’s Day.
Let me know if you join me in any of them.
Ignore it: This is the most elegant and non-hypocritical solution. And if you can pull off a straight-faced "no, I’ve never heard of Valentine’s Day," all the better.
Wear orange: A nice "Orange Crush" t-shirt or some tangerine pants make a nice clashy statement against all the reds and pinks of Valentine’s Day.
Get creative with candy hearts: There’s always the classic fall-back "scrape off the pre-written message and write your own in red ink" method of dealing with "say yes" and "U R Tops" type candy heart messages.
A few of the more recent candy heart messages, especially the ones intended to reflect connection in modern life, satirize themselves, though. "Email me" and "fax me," no matter how ubiquitous those modes of communication have become, will never be romantic. ("Text me" may have a chance.)
My college friends and I laughed at the candy conversation hearts we encountered a few years ago, some of which said, inexplicably, "Book Club."
In honor of a candy that clearly had a sense of humor, if unwittingly, we decided to celebrate Valentine’s Day with an ice cream cake portraying a "Book Club" heart in icing.
The ice cream was mint chocolate chip, making the cake taste significantly better than the actual Necco-waferlike conversation hearts.
Get creative with Valentine’s Day cards: Instead of those little rectangular perforated "Bee Mine" cards, or the more formal folded versions with Hallmark poetry on them, switch it up. Try sending blank cards with handwritten messages in them.
If your friends or loved ones have a sense of humor, you might consider non-V-Day-related messages, such as "you didn’t finish washing the dishes last night." Or if you insist on pre-written cards, consider the "sympathy on the death of your pet" collection.
Horror movie marathon: This is how I’m going to spend my Valentine’s Day.
And no cheating - this is not an excuse to clutch your beloved closer than usual in terror.
In fact, the more bizarre the movie, the more esoteric the reference, the better. If you snagged any dollar DVDs from a pharmacy or department store around Halloween, you probably have a few that will do: "The House on Haunted Hill," "Atom Age Zombies" or "The Brain That Wouldn’t Die" are winners.
I recommend "Ringu," the original Japanese version of "The Ring." Despite our Chinese school’s Japanese karate instructor psyching himself up before watching it (for the second time) by rocking back and forth and repeating "it’s okay; I know karate," it’s not what most Americans would call actually scary.
The first three Alien movies, while not technically horror, are also acceptable.
Go international: China has a "lover’s day," too, in which boys get the girl they like flowers, and girls get boys books.
It adds some spice to the otherwise tired routine of red roses, fancy dinner out and marriage proposal that plays itself out every year, to have a slightly "ethnic" twist on romance.
And it’s nice to have a prescribed gift item - and the guarantee that the guy you’re into will have no more excuses for not reading the Twilight quadrilogy.
That’s right: Friday the 13th.
Right before Valentine’s Day.
If, like me, you’ve never cottoned to a day meant for surprise romantic gestures that comes like clockwork every year, here are some ways to ward off Valentine’s Day.
Let me know if you join me in any of them.
Ignore it: This is the most elegant and non-hypocritical solution. And if you can pull off a straight-faced "no, I’ve never heard of Valentine’s Day," all the better.
Wear orange: A nice "Orange Crush" t-shirt or some tangerine pants make a nice clashy statement against all the reds and pinks of Valentine’s Day.
Get creative with candy hearts: There’s always the classic fall-back "scrape off the pre-written message and write your own in red ink" method of dealing with "say yes" and "U R Tops" type candy heart messages.
A few of the more recent candy heart messages, especially the ones intended to reflect connection in modern life, satirize themselves, though. "Email me" and "fax me," no matter how ubiquitous those modes of communication have become, will never be romantic. ("Text me" may have a chance.)
My college friends and I laughed at the candy conversation hearts we encountered a few years ago, some of which said, inexplicably, "Book Club."
In honor of a candy that clearly had a sense of humor, if unwittingly, we decided to celebrate Valentine’s Day with an ice cream cake portraying a "Book Club" heart in icing.
The ice cream was mint chocolate chip, making the cake taste significantly better than the actual Necco-waferlike conversation hearts.
Get creative with Valentine’s Day cards: Instead of those little rectangular perforated "Bee Mine" cards, or the more formal folded versions with Hallmark poetry on them, switch it up. Try sending blank cards with handwritten messages in them.
If your friends or loved ones have a sense of humor, you might consider non-V-Day-related messages, such as "you didn’t finish washing the dishes last night." Or if you insist on pre-written cards, consider the "sympathy on the death of your pet" collection.
Horror movie marathon: This is how I’m going to spend my Valentine’s Day.
And no cheating - this is not an excuse to clutch your beloved closer than usual in terror.
In fact, the more bizarre the movie, the more esoteric the reference, the better. If you snagged any dollar DVDs from a pharmacy or department store around Halloween, you probably have a few that will do: "The House on Haunted Hill," "Atom Age Zombies" or "The Brain That Wouldn’t Die" are winners.
I recommend "Ringu," the original Japanese version of "The Ring." Despite our Chinese school’s Japanese karate instructor psyching himself up before watching it (for the second time) by rocking back and forth and repeating "it’s okay; I know karate," it’s not what most Americans would call actually scary.
The first three Alien movies, while not technically horror, are also acceptable.
Go international: China has a "lover’s day," too, in which boys get the girl they like flowers, and girls get boys books.
It adds some spice to the otherwise tired routine of red roses, fancy dinner out and marriage proposal that plays itself out every year, to have a slightly "ethnic" twist on romance.
And it’s nice to have a prescribed gift item - and the guarantee that the guy you’re into will have no more excuses for not reading the Twilight quadrilogy.
Friday, February 6, 2009
2/6/09: Together online, yes, but also on your own
Galvanized by my own surprise at the number of interesting, funny and decent people I met on Craigslist after posting a personal ad a few weeks ago, I decided to dig a bit deeper.
At first, I was worried I was missing something, some obvious, glaring pitfall in meeting people online. Everybody I wrote to seemed so nice. There had to be something wrong with these guys, right?
But meeting “on the Internet” has largely lost the stigma it had a decade ago, when “the Internet” seemed like code for “a back alley” or “because I couldn’t find anyone in real life.”
My experience has been almost entirely positive, as has the experience of my new friends, I’m happy to say — particularly since the people I’ve been corresponding with say they’ve never replied to a Craigslist ad before, making me their only “Craigslist friend.”
One friend, Edward, elaborated on his online socializing: As an autistic early teen, Edward lived mostly online, where he “had half a dozen instant messaging windows open at the same time, held chat room meetings, had power; could tell someone twice my age what needed to be done; could ban someone who got out of line.”
Edward has “met” people from all around the world online, and he describes his experiences as positive, right in sync with my own.
But not everyone shares this experience.
It’s partly a numbers game: It’s no coincidence that I’m a woman getting all these responses. Since more men than women seem to read “the personals,” men who post also seem to get fewer responses.
Mike Z of Berlin, for instance, who decided to post a new personal ad every day for 30 days, quit after 14 posts when almost all he’d gotten was spam ads.
He’d started out hopeful in his initial post Jan. 2 — “hello?” — straightforwardly stating that he was “looking for a girlfriend,” admitting that he’d been single for awhile.
A few women had responded, Mike said, but no one had stuck around: “It seems that you can be having a good conversation and then it just ends, me figuring maybe tomorrow they’ll write back or something, but nothing ever comes of it.”
By Jan. 8, Day 7, Mike was tired of getting nothing but spam, and the ad he posted showed it.
Starting with a primal-scream type “aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Mike demanded to know what was wrong with him and his ads that caused him to be so snubbed by Connecticut Craigslist women.
He asked women to respond with suggestions, if not interest, on what he could change to improve his ads.
Women did respond.
One woman, Mike says, wrote him “about a page and a half,” advising him to get “better pictures,” and not to “come off as so desperate” or say he was lonely.
There is something to this. In the DIY ethos of Craigslist, there aren’t many pointers along the way for how to craft a personal ad that displays your best qualities, no guidelines or auto-formatting like at larger, dating-specific Web sites.
At the same time, it’s exactly that do-it-yourself mentality that eventually caused women to respond to Mike — with advice rather than the offer of a coffee meet-up, sure, but in an effort to connect, nonetheless.
Mike was still disappointed enough to stop posting his ads, the last of which is on the Hartford Craigslist site as “another post lucky 13” on Jan. 21.
That’s tough, and I wish Mike luck — and hope.
Because, as my experience has shown, there are good people out there — here in Connecticut — and online.
My main disappointment remains that I can’t meet them all.
At first, I was worried I was missing something, some obvious, glaring pitfall in meeting people online. Everybody I wrote to seemed so nice. There had to be something wrong with these guys, right?
But meeting “on the Internet” has largely lost the stigma it had a decade ago, when “the Internet” seemed like code for “a back alley” or “because I couldn’t find anyone in real life.”
My experience has been almost entirely positive, as has the experience of my new friends, I’m happy to say — particularly since the people I’ve been corresponding with say they’ve never replied to a Craigslist ad before, making me their only “Craigslist friend.”
One friend, Edward, elaborated on his online socializing: As an autistic early teen, Edward lived mostly online, where he “had half a dozen instant messaging windows open at the same time, held chat room meetings, had power; could tell someone twice my age what needed to be done; could ban someone who got out of line.”
Edward has “met” people from all around the world online, and he describes his experiences as positive, right in sync with my own.
But not everyone shares this experience.
It’s partly a numbers game: It’s no coincidence that I’m a woman getting all these responses. Since more men than women seem to read “the personals,” men who post also seem to get fewer responses.
Mike Z of Berlin, for instance, who decided to post a new personal ad every day for 30 days, quit after 14 posts when almost all he’d gotten was spam ads.
He’d started out hopeful in his initial post Jan. 2 — “hello?” — straightforwardly stating that he was “looking for a girlfriend,” admitting that he’d been single for awhile.
A few women had responded, Mike said, but no one had stuck around: “It seems that you can be having a good conversation and then it just ends, me figuring maybe tomorrow they’ll write back or something, but nothing ever comes of it.”
By Jan. 8, Day 7, Mike was tired of getting nothing but spam, and the ad he posted showed it.
Starting with a primal-scream type “aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Mike demanded to know what was wrong with him and his ads that caused him to be so snubbed by Connecticut Craigslist women.
He asked women to respond with suggestions, if not interest, on what he could change to improve his ads.
Women did respond.
One woman, Mike says, wrote him “about a page and a half,” advising him to get “better pictures,” and not to “come off as so desperate” or say he was lonely.
There is something to this. In the DIY ethos of Craigslist, there aren’t many pointers along the way for how to craft a personal ad that displays your best qualities, no guidelines or auto-formatting like at larger, dating-specific Web sites.
At the same time, it’s exactly that do-it-yourself mentality that eventually caused women to respond to Mike — with advice rather than the offer of a coffee meet-up, sure, but in an effort to connect, nonetheless.
Mike was still disappointed enough to stop posting his ads, the last of which is on the Hartford Craigslist site as “another post lucky 13” on Jan. 21.
That’s tough, and I wish Mike luck — and hope.
Because, as my experience has shown, there are good people out there — here in Connecticut — and online.
My main disappointment remains that I can’t meet them all.
Friday, January 30, 2009
1/30/09: Getting real personal in mostly virtual way
Recently, I realized I needed more local friends.
I could pontificate here on the fragmentation of modern society, the industrialization of things that used to be personal and the disaffection caused by modern communication methods and media that may have gotten me to this point, but I won’t.
This isn’t a story about how I needed to find friends because globalization is a lonely making force.This is actually a story about how I found them.
Two weeks into the new year, I posted an ad on Craigslist, a Web site community familiar to most who consider themselves geeks, nerds or hipsters.
I’m using the word “community” here deliberately; Craigslist isn’t only a dating site like Match.com or eHarmony. It isn’t a career site like Monster or Idealist.org. And it doesn’t only offer free things to people willing to pick them up like a regional Freecycle listserve group. Craigslist is a do-it-yourself version of all of these things in one.
And it’s free, and is organized by geographic location, which was what I was looking for.
I was a Craigslist novice when I first looked up the personals section on the Hartford network, but I knew enough to realize that the “strictly platonic” category of personal ad was more for hook-ups than friendship-building. So I posted my ad in the section I thought would get me the most responses: “women seeking men.”
I introduced myself to central Connecticut as a nerd looking for people to hang out with, sat back and waited to see what I’d get back.
I was almost immediately overwhelmed with responses: In the first three days of my ad being posted, I got e-mails from no fewer than 50 different e-mail addresses.
True, some of these were spam ads for other “dating sites,” and some were from men looking for the sorts of relationships I wasn’t interested in — but the majority were from real people looking, as I had been, for a sense of connection.
I was touched, personally, by the positive responses I’d gotten. But beyond that, I was shocked by how many people out there — how many of us — are searching hopefully for others to have fun with, relate to and share their ideas and passions.
I got e-mails from people who liked the same music I liked, filled with “they’re great, aren’t they?” types of comments. I instant-messaged about the comic books I’ve read and the independent coffee shops I like to hang out at. I learned a bit more about towns I’d grown up near but never investigated.
I found a local whose hometown in China is an hour away from my adopted hometown, and a fellow nerd who took me to task for never having seen “Dr. Who.”
I was charmed by the people I wrote to, and even more charmed by the ones I met. Who knew central Connecticut was so full of engaging people?
I decided to do a little more digging and see how deep this vein went.
It wasn’t all sunshine and springtime: One responder said I was the first person he’d replied to on Craigslist who was real — the rest had all been spam ads.
And Mike Z. of Berlin has had plenty of trouble finding the connection he’s looking for.
Mike has been posting a new ad on the Hartford Craigslist most days since Jan. 2. He says he’ll continue posting for 30 days, or until he starts corresponding with someone interesting — and real.
Next week, Mike’s story.
I could pontificate here on the fragmentation of modern society, the industrialization of things that used to be personal and the disaffection caused by modern communication methods and media that may have gotten me to this point, but I won’t.
This isn’t a story about how I needed to find friends because globalization is a lonely making force.This is actually a story about how I found them.
Two weeks into the new year, I posted an ad on Craigslist, a Web site community familiar to most who consider themselves geeks, nerds or hipsters.
I’m using the word “community” here deliberately; Craigslist isn’t only a dating site like Match.com or eHarmony. It isn’t a career site like Monster or Idealist.org. And it doesn’t only offer free things to people willing to pick them up like a regional Freecycle listserve group. Craigslist is a do-it-yourself version of all of these things in one.
And it’s free, and is organized by geographic location, which was what I was looking for.
I was a Craigslist novice when I first looked up the personals section on the Hartford network, but I knew enough to realize that the “strictly platonic” category of personal ad was more for hook-ups than friendship-building. So I posted my ad in the section I thought would get me the most responses: “women seeking men.”
I introduced myself to central Connecticut as a nerd looking for people to hang out with, sat back and waited to see what I’d get back.
I was almost immediately overwhelmed with responses: In the first three days of my ad being posted, I got e-mails from no fewer than 50 different e-mail addresses.
True, some of these were spam ads for other “dating sites,” and some were from men looking for the sorts of relationships I wasn’t interested in — but the majority were from real people looking, as I had been, for a sense of connection.
I was touched, personally, by the positive responses I’d gotten. But beyond that, I was shocked by how many people out there — how many of us — are searching hopefully for others to have fun with, relate to and share their ideas and passions.
I got e-mails from people who liked the same music I liked, filled with “they’re great, aren’t they?” types of comments. I instant-messaged about the comic books I’ve read and the independent coffee shops I like to hang out at. I learned a bit more about towns I’d grown up near but never investigated.
I found a local whose hometown in China is an hour away from my adopted hometown, and a fellow nerd who took me to task for never having seen “Dr. Who.”
I was charmed by the people I wrote to, and even more charmed by the ones I met. Who knew central Connecticut was so full of engaging people?
I decided to do a little more digging and see how deep this vein went.
It wasn’t all sunshine and springtime: One responder said I was the first person he’d replied to on Craigslist who was real — the rest had all been spam ads.
And Mike Z. of Berlin has had plenty of trouble finding the connection he’s looking for.
Mike has been posting a new ad on the Hartford Craigslist most days since Jan. 2. He says he’ll continue posting for 30 days, or until he starts corresponding with someone interesting — and real.
Next week, Mike’s story.
Friday, January 23, 2009
1/23/09: It's time to add hope to our history
This week has been unprecedented. The news has been full of analysis of the inauguration, from how much money was spent on it (an unprecedented amount), how many celebratory balls the Obamas went to (an unprecedented number), how many people gathered in D.C. to participate (unprecedented crowds of them) and how great it is that America has finally elected a leader who is a person of color.
I like talking about things in this way, and I hope we keep it up.
I like it because before the newness of this inauguration, news cycles were full of accounts of an impending economic depression — “the second Great Depression,” I’d heard it called — and how the bailout would still be affecting us generations from now.
Before Obama even became president-elect, too, he was being compared to President Kennedy, and an Obama White House was being touted as a “return to Camelot.” Some of my friends, citing the fresh-faced young family’s similarities to the Kennedys, expressed concern for Obama’s safety, in the kind of hushed tones reserved for talking about things you’re afraid to say aloud in case it would somehow cause them to happen.
There’s a certain kind of adrenaline created by all that talk, especially when it links us now to memories of past traumas still shocking and dire enough to warrant moments of silent reflection.
But that kind of agitation is nothing compared with the adrenaline of moving forward, and that’s what I want to focus on. In fact, what I want most to say here is that we all should.
Our times are unprecedented. We can learn a lot from the past, and I hope we do: Saving money and learning to live within our means, as modest as they may be in this economy, are lessons we can glean from the 1930s. I, for one, have learned to cook turnips and make my own marmalade.
As loath as I am to suggest that anything “good” could come from the national trauma of the assassination of our president in 1963, I hope even the most extreme protestors learned that proper, democratic dissent can’t be handled by a gun or any violent solution. It can only be productively expressed in words and through legal, peaceful means.
But we’re not living in the Great Depression. We’re not living in the Cold War. Our lives now are so significantly different that we couldn’t have predicted what we’d be doing or caring about now even 20 years ago. Even 10 years ago, most of us would not have guessed we’d be where we are today.
We’re living in a country with people willing to participate in more than 12,000 service projects in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and President Barack Obama’s call to service, for one thing.
I have to admit that I have a soft spot for service projects; I spent two years in Washington, D.C., as a full-time Americorps volunteer, and loved it enough to be seriously tempted by the possibility of visiting for this week’s inauguration. My time in D.C., and as a volunteer, taught me that a lot can get done with a bit of optimism and elbow grease.
I’m not saying that I think that “the power of positive thinking” will magically save us from the need to right our economic situation any more than I think the King Day of Service will eliminate the need for social programs.
But these days require out-of-the-history-book thinking. Hope needs to be taken into account when we’re talking about the future.I think we’ll find our accounts are better off than we thought.
I like talking about things in this way, and I hope we keep it up.
I like it because before the newness of this inauguration, news cycles were full of accounts of an impending economic depression — “the second Great Depression,” I’d heard it called — and how the bailout would still be affecting us generations from now.
Before Obama even became president-elect, too, he was being compared to President Kennedy, and an Obama White House was being touted as a “return to Camelot.” Some of my friends, citing the fresh-faced young family’s similarities to the Kennedys, expressed concern for Obama’s safety, in the kind of hushed tones reserved for talking about things you’re afraid to say aloud in case it would somehow cause them to happen.
There’s a certain kind of adrenaline created by all that talk, especially when it links us now to memories of past traumas still shocking and dire enough to warrant moments of silent reflection.
But that kind of agitation is nothing compared with the adrenaline of moving forward, and that’s what I want to focus on. In fact, what I want most to say here is that we all should.
Our times are unprecedented. We can learn a lot from the past, and I hope we do: Saving money and learning to live within our means, as modest as they may be in this economy, are lessons we can glean from the 1930s. I, for one, have learned to cook turnips and make my own marmalade.
As loath as I am to suggest that anything “good” could come from the national trauma of the assassination of our president in 1963, I hope even the most extreme protestors learned that proper, democratic dissent can’t be handled by a gun or any violent solution. It can only be productively expressed in words and through legal, peaceful means.
But we’re not living in the Great Depression. We’re not living in the Cold War. Our lives now are so significantly different that we couldn’t have predicted what we’d be doing or caring about now even 20 years ago. Even 10 years ago, most of us would not have guessed we’d be where we are today.
We’re living in a country with people willing to participate in more than 12,000 service projects in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and President Barack Obama’s call to service, for one thing.
I have to admit that I have a soft spot for service projects; I spent two years in Washington, D.C., as a full-time Americorps volunteer, and loved it enough to be seriously tempted by the possibility of visiting for this week’s inauguration. My time in D.C., and as a volunteer, taught me that a lot can get done with a bit of optimism and elbow grease.
I’m not saying that I think that “the power of positive thinking” will magically save us from the need to right our economic situation any more than I think the King Day of Service will eliminate the need for social programs.
But these days require out-of-the-history-book thinking. Hope needs to be taken into account when we’re talking about the future.I think we’ll find our accounts are better off than we thought.
Friday, January 16, 2009
1/16/09: Goodbye Forest City, it's duet from now on
Well, I think you’ve almost certainly heard the news by now — if not in the paper you’re reading, then probably on TV. But in case you’re like me and only read my column and the comics, and only watch TV shows in commercial-free DVD form, here it is: The Herald and The Bristol Press have been bought.
In all the talk of buying and selling and the action-movielike last-minute appearance of publisher and newsman Mike Schroeder to save the day, though, in all the excitement and celebration, no one’s taken time to acknowledge that this is also a parting of ways. The Middletown Press, once called "the Marsha Brady" of our triplet papers, will be going it alone.
In case you’re wondering who’s ever called it that, it was me, just now.
You’ve probably noticed that I have a bit of a crush on Middletown. In a past column, I cited the city as a good example of downtown revitalization — an example New Britain and Bristol are justified in trying to emulate.
Alas, Middletown, it’s not to be: This is our last column together. I’ll be writing for The Bristol Press and The Herald, alone, from now on.
We’ve had some good times. I brought my friends to Javapalooza as a nice Starbucks alternative when they came to visit last year; the lamb Rogan Josh at Tandoor is excellent; and I love the way the Victorian houses on Broad Street have been made into businesses. I can even forgive you for towing my out-of-town friend’s car during the parking ban last week.
But it’s time for me to "love the one I’m with" now: New Britain’s Staropolska’s pierogies and the giant satellite dishes of Bristol’s ESPN.
Now’s a pretty good time to love New Britain and Bristol, actually. Despite our ailing economy (and snowy, cold winters), urban central Connecticut holds onto the "almost sacred relationship to work" that made author Stewart O’Nan set his novel "Last Night at the Lobster" in New Britain. And despite the advantages of Middletown’s Main Street collection of diversions, ferreting out hole-in-the-wall places (like the Hole-in-the-Wall Theater) for entertaining ourselves often becomes another form of entertainment — especially when many of us are already strapped for cash to spend once we get to wherever we’re going.
It’s getting easier to love other places from New Britain and Bristol as well. With the still-years-away busway between New Britain and Hartford at least in serious planning phases, and the construction of the Route 72 expansion into Bristol begun, we’re heading toward the integration of our communities that I expressed hope for this summer.
If U.S. Rep. Chris Murphy has his way, we’ll have increased commuter rail service between Hartford and Springfield, and while the rail spur between Berlin and Waterbury has always been more a dream than an impending reality, once everything else is in place, that connection would link the Amtrak Vermonter and the Metro-North train into New York City. We’d be right in the middle of the action.
As much as we’re about to be at a literal crossroad, newspapers in general, and our papers especially, are at a virtual one. We’re not stopping the presses, but plans for the Herald and Bristol Press will focus just as much on getting our local news online as getting it into print.
And that’s where you can still find me, Middletown.
We’ll always have the Web.
In all the talk of buying and selling and the action-movielike last-minute appearance of publisher and newsman Mike Schroeder to save the day, though, in all the excitement and celebration, no one’s taken time to acknowledge that this is also a parting of ways. The Middletown Press, once called "the Marsha Brady" of our triplet papers, will be going it alone.
In case you’re wondering who’s ever called it that, it was me, just now.
You’ve probably noticed that I have a bit of a crush on Middletown. In a past column, I cited the city as a good example of downtown revitalization — an example New Britain and Bristol are justified in trying to emulate.
Alas, Middletown, it’s not to be: This is our last column together. I’ll be writing for The Bristol Press and The Herald, alone, from now on.
We’ve had some good times. I brought my friends to Javapalooza as a nice Starbucks alternative when they came to visit last year; the lamb Rogan Josh at Tandoor is excellent; and I love the way the Victorian houses on Broad Street have been made into businesses. I can even forgive you for towing my out-of-town friend’s car during the parking ban last week.
But it’s time for me to "love the one I’m with" now: New Britain’s Staropolska’s pierogies and the giant satellite dishes of Bristol’s ESPN.
Now’s a pretty good time to love New Britain and Bristol, actually. Despite our ailing economy (and snowy, cold winters), urban central Connecticut holds onto the "almost sacred relationship to work" that made author Stewart O’Nan set his novel "Last Night at the Lobster" in New Britain. And despite the advantages of Middletown’s Main Street collection of diversions, ferreting out hole-in-the-wall places (like the Hole-in-the-Wall Theater) for entertaining ourselves often becomes another form of entertainment — especially when many of us are already strapped for cash to spend once we get to wherever we’re going.
It’s getting easier to love other places from New Britain and Bristol as well. With the still-years-away busway between New Britain and Hartford at least in serious planning phases, and the construction of the Route 72 expansion into Bristol begun, we’re heading toward the integration of our communities that I expressed hope for this summer.
If U.S. Rep. Chris Murphy has his way, we’ll have increased commuter rail service between Hartford and Springfield, and while the rail spur between Berlin and Waterbury has always been more a dream than an impending reality, once everything else is in place, that connection would link the Amtrak Vermonter and the Metro-North train into New York City. We’d be right in the middle of the action.
As much as we’re about to be at a literal crossroad, newspapers in general, and our papers especially, are at a virtual one. We’re not stopping the presses, but plans for the Herald and Bristol Press will focus just as much on getting our local news online as getting it into print.
And that’s where you can still find me, Middletown.
We’ll always have the Web.
Friday, January 9, 2009
1/9/08:
When I was in high school, my younger brother got a pet dragon.
Now he plays in a rock band with his friends when he’s home on vacation, usually between midnight and 3 a.m.
I would never have thought of doing these things, myself — but then, he never went on a River Raid or destroyed Asteroids.
By now you probably know I’m talking about video games.
But I’m not just talking about video games. I’m talking about the way "kids these days" think and act, and how it’s been influenced by video games and new television genres.
I’m talking about it because despite my own relative youth, the way my brother — about 10 years younger than me — thinks is significantly different than the way I do. And I think it’s in large part thanks to his history with video games.
When I was 9, we had an Atari. By the time my brother was 9, we had a Sega and Super Nintendo, and as he grew older, he went through a Sony PlayStation, a Nintendo 64, an Xbox and several computers’ worth of computer games.
Was I deprived, or was I mercifully spared a virtual childhood?
I think that partly depends on how well the skills we learn in video games translate into real-world know-how.
On a practical level, for instance, thanks to his Halo experience, my brother may know how to outstrategize alien invaders.
That may not sound very practical, but while I probably learned some level of hand-eye coordination from my Atari adventures, my brother learned entire ways of thinking. Increasingly, the skills games require are the ones demanded by a global, information-driven economy: strategic thinking, virtual problem-solving and even (groan) some game theory.
Perhaps most importantly, he learned how to learn-by-video-game.
It’s not likely that his career path will veer into "professional video gamer," nor that all careers in the future will have video-game components. But we’re living in the society predicted by both naysayers and advocates of the Internet’s ubiquity. Our lives are just as much virtual as they are actual these days, and lines between real and not-real are smudging.
The blurring of boundaries heralded by the influx of "reality TV" shows 10 years ago has become much more sophisticated. We still have "Survivor," but we also have "Lost," which is a scripted show (less "real" than "Survivor" in that sense) with interactive elements such as "The Lost Experience" alternate-reality game that people play online (more "real" than "Survivor").
Even in sitcoms, which used to be about setting up elaborate one-line gags no matter how unrealistic the premise, we’ve moved on from "Friends" to "The Office," which subtracts the laugh track for awkward moments and the quotidian victories of paper company employees in Scranton, Pa. – also more like real life, unless you spend all your days being witty in Central Perk.
And "Lost" and "The Office" took their venture into "reality" one step further, running ads for products that exist only within the series. The uninitiated wouldn’t even know these weren’t real.
If interacting with the real world requires dealing with this much virtual input, maybe we should all be playing video games.
James Paul Gee, the author of "What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy," says that "we can learn a lot from those young people who play [video] games, if only we take them and their games seriously."
I agree. We all need to learn how to interpret, interact and think in a virtual world. Relying on old standards would be like training as a blacksmith after the Industrial Revolution: useful and quaint, but not quite relevant.
Now he plays in a rock band with his friends when he’s home on vacation, usually between midnight and 3 a.m.
I would never have thought of doing these things, myself — but then, he never went on a River Raid or destroyed Asteroids.
By now you probably know I’m talking about video games.
But I’m not just talking about video games. I’m talking about the way "kids these days" think and act, and how it’s been influenced by video games and new television genres.
I’m talking about it because despite my own relative youth, the way my brother — about 10 years younger than me — thinks is significantly different than the way I do. And I think it’s in large part thanks to his history with video games.
When I was 9, we had an Atari. By the time my brother was 9, we had a Sega and Super Nintendo, and as he grew older, he went through a Sony PlayStation, a Nintendo 64, an Xbox and several computers’ worth of computer games.
Was I deprived, or was I mercifully spared a virtual childhood?
I think that partly depends on how well the skills we learn in video games translate into real-world know-how.
On a practical level, for instance, thanks to his Halo experience, my brother may know how to outstrategize alien invaders.
That may not sound very practical, but while I probably learned some level of hand-eye coordination from my Atari adventures, my brother learned entire ways of thinking. Increasingly, the skills games require are the ones demanded by a global, information-driven economy: strategic thinking, virtual problem-solving and even (groan) some game theory.
Perhaps most importantly, he learned how to learn-by-video-game.
It’s not likely that his career path will veer into "professional video gamer," nor that all careers in the future will have video-game components. But we’re living in the society predicted by both naysayers and advocates of the Internet’s ubiquity. Our lives are just as much virtual as they are actual these days, and lines between real and not-real are smudging.
The blurring of boundaries heralded by the influx of "reality TV" shows 10 years ago has become much more sophisticated. We still have "Survivor," but we also have "Lost," which is a scripted show (less "real" than "Survivor" in that sense) with interactive elements such as "The Lost Experience" alternate-reality game that people play online (more "real" than "Survivor").
Even in sitcoms, which used to be about setting up elaborate one-line gags no matter how unrealistic the premise, we’ve moved on from "Friends" to "The Office," which subtracts the laugh track for awkward moments and the quotidian victories of paper company employees in Scranton, Pa. – also more like real life, unless you spend all your days being witty in Central Perk.
And "Lost" and "The Office" took their venture into "reality" one step further, running ads for products that exist only within the series. The uninitiated wouldn’t even know these weren’t real.
If interacting with the real world requires dealing with this much virtual input, maybe we should all be playing video games.
James Paul Gee, the author of "What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy," says that "we can learn a lot from those young people who play [video] games, if only we take them and their games seriously."
I agree. We all need to learn how to interpret, interact and think in a virtual world. Relying on old standards would be like training as a blacksmith after the Industrial Revolution: useful and quaint, but not quite relevant.
Friday, January 2, 2009
1/2/09:Traditionally, China isn't about the future
My second year in China, my brother called to chat. The conversation worked its way around to the "what time is it there?" point that most trans-time-zone conversations get to, and I said "it’s exactly the same time it is in Connecticut, but tomorrow morning."
"So you’re in the future?" he asked.
"Compared to you, yes. Twelve hours in the future."
"What’s tomorrow like? Oh, oh, wait — what are the newspaper headlines for tomorrow?"
I explained that it didn’t work like that. Just because it’s tomorrow in China doesn’t mean calling there gives us a psychic reading on the future. And that’s fitting. Fortune cookies notwithstanding, China is a country more about tradition than predicting the future.
He was disappointed but understanding.
In particular, relying on China for predictions on the new year won’t help, since Chinese New Year comes after ours. This year, Spring Festival, or Chunjie, falls on Jan. 26.
My first Chunjie in China was a bit startling, though I’d gotten used to some of the differences between Western and Chinese holidays during the fall. If I’d had Chinese ancestors, for instance, I might have participated in the burning of "ghost money," or fake paper currency, to ensure they weren’t living the afterlife in poverty during Ghost Festival.
My school had a Ghost Festival celebration culminating in "the sailing of the paper boats": We released folded paper boats, each carrying a single candle, onto an outdoor pool, and watched them burn and eventually sink.
An eerie reverie fell over the students as the boats floated away — eerie particularly if you’d tried to teach a class of squirmy, talkative fourth graders just a few hours earlier. (My students were barely recognizable when they weren’t wiggling out of their chairs or shouting "a hamburger!" in answer to a question.) — and it seemed we were all caught up in the past and our memories.
Chunjie, the biggest, oldest, loudest and most future-oriented Chinese holiday, doesn’t involve sailing paper boats, but it does involve paper, in the form of red scrolls inviting luck and fortune hung around doorways.
Chunjie also involves fire, which I was completely unprepared for.
Walking back from town around Chunjie, I came across pair after pair of children giggling conspiratorially — and almost all of them grasping some form of explosive.
This was alarming at first. If the kids, some of whom seemed barely old enough to toddle a safe firecrackering distance from their homes, hadn’t been so intimidatingly intent on setting them off, I might have demanded to know where their mothers were and marched them all home.
If I had, I probably would have encountered a bunch of moms wondering how the foreigner got in rather than what their kids were doing with sparklers and Roman candles. They all knew what their kids were up to; in China, everyone gets in on Chunjie firecrackers. They’re meant to ward off evil spirits, and kids are taught how to use them, mostly safely, practically from infancy. They symbolize Chinese connections to the past — to ancestors and past life events — while ushering in the future.
I learned this after a traditional dinner banquet and special variety-TV-show viewing at the headmaster’s house, when he invited me to join his family outside. He brought a giant wheel of firecrackers, the equivalent of a few thousand cap-gun caps, and lit the end. We all stood back as it spun and sparked, the lit end traveling inward on a spiral heading for the center.
Watching the spark travel toward its end was just as good as "watching the ball drop" for putting the old year to rest; and it was the closest I’ve ever gotten, or expect to get, to being able to predict the future.
"So you’re in the future?" he asked.
"Compared to you, yes. Twelve hours in the future."
"What’s tomorrow like? Oh, oh, wait — what are the newspaper headlines for tomorrow?"
I explained that it didn’t work like that. Just because it’s tomorrow in China doesn’t mean calling there gives us a psychic reading on the future. And that’s fitting. Fortune cookies notwithstanding, China is a country more about tradition than predicting the future.
He was disappointed but understanding.
In particular, relying on China for predictions on the new year won’t help, since Chinese New Year comes after ours. This year, Spring Festival, or Chunjie, falls on Jan. 26.
My first Chunjie in China was a bit startling, though I’d gotten used to some of the differences between Western and Chinese holidays during the fall. If I’d had Chinese ancestors, for instance, I might have participated in the burning of "ghost money," or fake paper currency, to ensure they weren’t living the afterlife in poverty during Ghost Festival.
My school had a Ghost Festival celebration culminating in "the sailing of the paper boats": We released folded paper boats, each carrying a single candle, onto an outdoor pool, and watched them burn and eventually sink.
An eerie reverie fell over the students as the boats floated away — eerie particularly if you’d tried to teach a class of squirmy, talkative fourth graders just a few hours earlier. (My students were barely recognizable when they weren’t wiggling out of their chairs or shouting "a hamburger!" in answer to a question.) — and it seemed we were all caught up in the past and our memories.
Chunjie, the biggest, oldest, loudest and most future-oriented Chinese holiday, doesn’t involve sailing paper boats, but it does involve paper, in the form of red scrolls inviting luck and fortune hung around doorways.
Chunjie also involves fire, which I was completely unprepared for.
Walking back from town around Chunjie, I came across pair after pair of children giggling conspiratorially — and almost all of them grasping some form of explosive.
This was alarming at first. If the kids, some of whom seemed barely old enough to toddle a safe firecrackering distance from their homes, hadn’t been so intimidatingly intent on setting them off, I might have demanded to know where their mothers were and marched them all home.
If I had, I probably would have encountered a bunch of moms wondering how the foreigner got in rather than what their kids were doing with sparklers and Roman candles. They all knew what their kids were up to; in China, everyone gets in on Chunjie firecrackers. They’re meant to ward off evil spirits, and kids are taught how to use them, mostly safely, practically from infancy. They symbolize Chinese connections to the past — to ancestors and past life events — while ushering in the future.
I learned this after a traditional dinner banquet and special variety-TV-show viewing at the headmaster’s house, when he invited me to join his family outside. He brought a giant wheel of firecrackers, the equivalent of a few thousand cap-gun caps, and lit the end. We all stood back as it spun and sparked, the lit end traveling inward on a spiral heading for the center.
Watching the spark travel toward its end was just as good as "watching the ball drop" for putting the old year to rest; and it was the closest I’ve ever gotten, or expect to get, to being able to predict the future.
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