Ten questions to expedite your demise

The political spectrum is populated with hypocritical weirdos just like you. People with good intentions, lack of time and loads of frustration; people worried about the future and the real, gripping ethical problems our world is facing. Unfortunately, most of the political talk I hear assumes one of two things: 1. conservatives are defined by hate and/or stupidity and 2. liberals like to run around screaming that the sky is falling when their moms tell them they can’t have more money. But which are you? Which tidy category do you fit into? Remember, too, that our biggest exports through Republican and Democrat years alike have been debt and personal greed. Yay! With so much to celebrate together, why are we arguing?

Question 1: do you believe that we have an ethical and moral obligation to provide humanitarian aid to suffering people?
a. Yes… the government should financially make everything better for everyone in the world.
b. Yes… all of us should take personal care of the sick and suffering like the Bible says.
c. No… it is insulting to their intelligence and personal culture if we shove our “betterment” upon them and continue to portray them as needy.
d. No…because they should figure it out on their own and gain wisdom and experience.

Question 2: do you believe the government should build a nuclear power plant upstream of your drinking water?
a. No…because nuclear power is totally bad.
b. No…because anything weird in my backyard is totally bad.
c. Yes, because I trust the government to force them to contain it properly, and because we need alternate energy resources.
d. Yes, because I need a job and they’ll be hiring.

Question 3: do you believe you should ride your bicycle to work if possible?
a. Yes… we need to cut down our carbon footprint.
b. Yes… we need to be financially responsible.
c. No… look, the world will fill to capacity, and I’m a population-control environmentalist. Cutting down on people will save the earth, not cutting down on individual car emissions.
d. No… are you kidding? I’d sweat too much.

Question 4: do you believe the government should subsidize soy-based biofuels?
a. Yes… like I said, we need to cut down our carbon footprint.
b. Yes… we need to cut our dependency to foreign oil.
c. No… that’s bogus. Soy biofuels use way too much water and are destroying acres of rainforest in the Amazon, dummy.
d. No… the government shouldn’t subsidize anything, particularly not hippie stuff.

Question 5: do you believe AIG executives should have gotten their million-dollar bonuses?
a. No… because they’re already corporate fat cats.
b. No… because the government shouldn’t be bailing people out in the first place.
c. Yes… it’s in their contract and it will trickle down like it’s supposed to.
d. Yes… it’s in their contract and I wish I were them.

Question 6: do you believe the government has a right to come into your home and take away stuff that’s important to you?
a. No… my own pot is my own business.
b. No… homeschooling my kids is my own business.
c. Yes… as long as they just take my money and then re-distribute it back.
d. Yes… they have a right to invade our lives, no matter what the cost, to prevent the spread of terrorism.

Question 7: do you believe using torture on a terrorism suspect is justified?
a. No. Pain is never justified.
b. No, you might get a false confession from an innocent man, and then he might go do actual terrorism to get back at you.
c. Yes, as long as it’s just playing Rush Limbaugh or something.
d. Yes, if it might save lives and there’s no other way.

Question 8: do you believe in the sanctity of human life?
a. Yes… which is why we need universal healthcare and to abolish the death penalty.
b. Yes… which is why we need to abolish abortion.
c. No, that sort of depends. “Life” could be subordinate to the greater good of science.
d. No, that sort of depends. If the person deserves to die, or if you’re in a war, then killing somebody is justifiable.

Question 9: do you believe that strength, speed, intelligence and so on rather than gender should be the measure of who gets in the armed forces?
a. Yes. Women are just as good as men, if not better.
b. Yes. Women are never as fast or as strong as men anyway, and if they are, they’re probably on steroids and thus may not be recognizable as women to either friend or foe.
c. No. Women should have lower standards so they can get into the armed forces.
d. No. Women do really weird things to a unit of men in the desert, and they would be safer at home.

Question 10: do you believe the U.S. should pass a constitutional amendment restricting marriage to one man and one woman?
a. No! Duh!
b. No, I’m trying to reinstate polygamy.
c. Yes. Who cares? I’d rather yell at the Man and riot in the streets than be married.
d. Yes! Duh!

If you answered mostly A or B to these questions, you would likely be evaluated by less detailed quizzes to be a “liberal.” If you answered mostly C or D, you would be assigned the value “conservative.” Confused? Ok, so am I, but from a recent quiz I took, I can assure you that this is the case. Just accept your label and move on.

Airtraveling

The difference between home and away is that away, the only familiar thing distracting you is your own mind. Until away gains normalcy, you wait, listening, and so your hearing seems more acute. You hear yourself, who you were and who you are and the disparity between expectation and reality. The older you get, the sharper the disparity seems; the young take for granted the “orgiastic future” that recedes line by line into the distant horizon, which is why they throw themselves towards it with such abandon. Older people have learned comfort and impatience; they have learned cynicism from bad decisions and caution from the hand of fate and responsibility, or at least the threat of it, from overdue credit cards.

But some continue, particularly if they have always been careful, to suspend themselves in the unknown. They travel and choose not to be wearied by it; they somehow retain the glamour that is usually there only in the minds of observers. They smile at how the world shrinks. How the names on their itineraries — Los Angeles, San Antonio, Portland — are less places unto themselves than they are worlds apart, a series of squares on a board game, an alternate reality linked by a few hours of boredom and lightheadedness. They ask other travelers if they know the talking fountain in Seattle? The Hilton lobby in Chicago? How flat Denver looks as you come in? The boring pre-check-in lounge at LAX?

High above the earth, trapped in a tiny space and sipping tomato juice, they consider the quiet space between their ears. They theorize. They remember all the places they love, or loved once, one evening, with friends new and old, and the nameless charm they found in being so transitory, itinerant.

Contemplating genetics

I went to the doctor yesterday, my first-ever real check up (other than the wandering into the living room, flopping onto the couch, and expositing on my symptoms to my father). I apparently have a heart murmur. That wasn’t so surprising; I went in because my heart was doing something funny. What was surprising was when I stepped on the scale.

It pointed to 116.

That’s about 30 pounds lighter than 4 years ago, when, at about this time, I was feasting on the pastries and meat dishes of North Africa. While 4 years is rather a long time, I’ve only weighed myself very intermittently since then. Since then, also, I’ve expanded my diet to more than the potatoes I bought in bulk to be the frugal college student I was, had several very active jobs, decided I liked roadbiking, got engaged, and, finally, stopped going to the gym because I was too busy, and because there was that something wrong with my heart.

Not going to the gym has really been the final straw, so to speak. My muscle mass has melted away in the last year. Although I really only noticed it when I stepped on the scale. It’s not like I’ve needed it at my desk job.

I went down to Moscow yesterday evening, where my sister, a nurse, who also has heart problems, Googled my stats and told me I needed to eat more junk food. I have a better idea: 1. find out if I can run without dying 2. become more active again 3. gain the weight back.

This will actually work. Trust me. Also, maybe I should weigh myself more often.

Today I went to Lewiston, where my brother had a Rugby tournament and tackled someone skull-first, giving himself a concussion and sending the other guy to the hospital for 20 stitches. My brother weighs a lot more than I do. According to the Google stats, he’s overweight, but then again, looking at him, he doesn’t have an ounce of visible fat. So I’m pretty sure Google’s wrong.

After being at the tournament all day, I attended another brother’s concert, which was less nerve-racking to watch than the Rugby matches. This brother also has less fat than either the Rugby player or me. However, despite this flaw, there still seemed to be plenty of feminine fans who dropped in on the gig. Afterwards, my sister, two brothers and I sang outside in the snow to the passing drunks on Main street.

We all had enough energy to complete the song, despite our hearts and heads and ribs. And that’s what matters, right?

Mr. Schmidt

Today I took some photos of the local blacksmith. He was trained by his father, according to the German tradition, he said, that you don’t just let your kids sit around. He underwent eight more years of schooling afterward to become a master of his trade.

It was snowing outside as I left, and drove home on the pock-marked mud roads bordering the lake.

The non-localizable language

Watching a documentary on the practice of rumspringa (“running around,” sometimes also referring to the whole period of adolescence), when 16-year-old Amish kids release themselves from their normal boundaries and go out into the world (or out into the back field) to taste and see if they want to live as others do, or else join the Amish church, I heard Pennsylvania Dutch for the first time since I was about 6 years old.

“That’s some German derivative,” I said to Scott.
“It’s called Pennsylvania Dutch,” he pointed out.
I insisted that it must be a misnomer. I have since discovered that it is one endangered/minority language whose speakers may actually continue to grow in number, due to the high birth rate of its population. Making a business of translating into this language (localization–the focus of my job) would probably never work, however, since the point of its existence is to create a barrier from the outside world, consumerism, corrupting technology, and excess. The Amish also seem perfectly capable of speaking English if they need to.
My parents made friends with an Amish family over 20 years ago as they traveled through Pennsylvania, and were invited to stay. I’m really not sure how rare this is, but I’m assuming that there was a certain amount of mutual respect there, since my parents also thought TV and material excess were both bad ideas. I remember wearing a corduroy skirt out of deference to their culture and playing with a drawer full of buttons, although nobody had buttons on their clothes. I saw a chicken running around headless in the yard, ate the chicken that evening with dumplings, searched for eggs in a giant henhouse (I broke one), watched my dad help build a barn one night with the neighbors. I shut myself in a dark room expecting to find a light switch and screamed until someone came and lit the lamp. Everyone was kind, and always busy; sweeping the stairs, cooking, walking around with those terrifying chickens in their hands. For how plain everything was supposed to be, it was very vivid.

Christmas anecdote

Scott bought a very nice shovel to shovel our walk; it’s light and functional and sturdy. It’s been snowing almost without ceasing lately, however, and finding the time to keep up with it is another matter. Time, in fact, is always the problem; there’s never enough time to do everything.

Yesterday Scott returned home for lunch to find that our steps and everything else had been cleaned. Apparently, a down-and-out sort has been making money shoveling people’s sidewalks using our shovel. As repayment, he’s been shoveling ours as well, and then returning the shovel to our front porch.

I saw him this morning cleaning our stoop. Just as I was about to open the door and say thanks, and Merry Christmas, he disappeared.

Food personality quiz for the holidays

Not sure who you are or what you like? This quiz is meant to test your personality and also to advise you to look for select recipes this holiday season. Simply answer the questions below and follow up with my patent-pending assessment at the bottom.

For breakfast, you’re eating scrambled eggs. To flavor them, you add

Ketchup
Salt and pepper, though you’d really like something else, too…
Italian seasoning
Velveeta

It’s mid-morning, and you’re hungry again. There’s an array of choices in the break room (left over in the refrigerator/ lying on your counter from last night’s bash). You select

A Chips Ahoy
A sliver of lamb with chutney
Exotic bread, with butter
A full-fat scoop of yogurt

Lunchtime! You’re dreaming of

A large fountain drink and some fries
Savory chicken soup
Anything with marinara
Anything with white sauce

A friend brings you a bagel. Your topping of choice:

Welch’s jam
Hummus, with flavors resembling curry
Hummus, with flavors enough to send your friend reeling
Cream cheese

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re not that hungry, and you’re in a rush. You grab

A brownie from Starbuck’s
Thai take-out
Ravioli from the can
A mozzarella stick

Decide which number (1-4) best represents your food desire. Depending upon your answer, you should try cooking with

corn syrup (you, proud American, will rarely rock the boat).
cumin (you have a thirst for adventure! Try experimenting in the kitchen when all else fails).
garlic (you’re destined to be fat and happy. Just remember to brush your teeth).
goat cheese (lactose is your friend, and it looks good on you).
Any combination of these: any combination. Try also: rosemary, chili powder, chocolate, olives, vinegar, red wine, white wine, lemon zest, coconut… food was made to be improved.

Hotel vs Hostel: the sequel

Modern open-air for $120 per night, or transformed Victorian house for $10 a night. $10 a night will get you a place with little soap, yes, but soap does not cost $110 a bar, so you still come out ahead. Hostel pluses also include impromptu lessons in Portuguese and Spanish, and conversation in French and English. As opposed to the hotel, which comes with … well, really nothing that the hostel doesn’t offer, other than more quiet, more seclusion and more spit shine. I tried talking to a guy from London at breakfast today at the hotel, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

I thought the point of going places was to plunge oneself into interesting and slightly uncomfortable situations and learn in so doing. Unless, of course, you’re traveling for business and need to sleep before 4 a.m. (which is only 10 p.m. Idaho time; fairly reasonable, really)

However, I’m actually enjoying the hotel, too, so I must be reaching middle age.

Hilton vs Hostel

Shouldering my red backpack, worn from travel, and walking down to the lobby crowded with bellboys, suits, and small children, I could feel my senses engaging again. After having spent a few days attending a conference at the Disney Hilton, which rang in at the reasonable price of $199 per night, I was heading out to find my $10 per night hostel, located along the route of bus 56.

The bus system is a bit confusing; tourists tend to avoid it due to the lack of information posted anywhere. However, after a false start in the wrong direction, I was directed by helpful drivers to the correct stop. 50 meters later, I was checking into a rundown hotel bleached by the sun and by the Pine Sol polished into it by its Filipino owners. I dumped my pack in an unadorned room that I was sharing with a girl from Holland and two from Denmark; went across the street to the grocery store, bought healthy food and cooked it in the hostel kitchen. I had been surviving on pricey white-bread sandwiches and the overripe fruit of the conference breakfasts; I revived myself with four bowls of home-made stew. In the evening, I got into an extended discussion on whether or not America was the Antichrist. This was mostly between two Europeans and a fellow from Australia; the fellow from Australia insisted that America was “the most benign Superpower in the history of the world,” which the Europeans found to be shocking. I went to bed at midnight, got up late, and went for a swim in the cold, clean swimming pool by the edge of the lake, alone. I looked up and noticed two Sand Cranes between the pool and the lake. I got out, did laundry in the sink, took photos, and logged onto the free wifi to do some work in the lobby, Bob Marley a buzz in the background, the tatooed maintenance guy repainting the curbs brilliant yellow in the baking sun outside. Compared to the depressing hotel room, large and crammed with too-fat pillows, and forever disturbed by housekeeping; compared to the crammed swimming pool and the crammed lobby of the Hilton, this is an organic form of Paradise.