The State (Illinois) of my Union

If you're one of the few I've talked to lately, you might want to save your current optometry prescription and not read this. Even if we haven’t spoken lately, you still might want to save your prescription and not read this. To put it mildly, life has been eventful lately and I haven’t been able to keep in touch with most people. I wanted to record for myself what I've been up to, so if I can compound that endeavor by updating a few people on my story, excellent.

Here’s the thing: I don't particularly enjoy long phone conversations. Don't take it personally because it doesn't matter with whom I'm speaking. I don't like the slight delay in transmittance; I don't like that the entire non-verbal element of communication disappears. These are issues that VOIP and bluetooth simply can't settle. The next generation of videochatting portable devices might suit me better. But guess what, this is not Tokyo, nor is this Seoul. For now, if I can cover the overarching picture here, our (shorter) phone conversation can be much more interesting for us both.

So you're left with this: too many paragraphs on a moribund blog. Take it or leave it. Excuse me, you're drooling...no, the right side...got it.

And then there was New York.
In the fall of '05 it became apparent to me that DC was not my ideal city. I liked many things about that city (some great people, a plugged-in/turned-on professional environment, improving social scene), but it boiled down to this: on the ever-paramount front of personal happiness, the cons outweighed the pros and I'd seen other places that endeared themselves to me more. So a relocation was in order. It would take nearly a year, and another position within my company, before I rolled away from DC with my meager possessions and charged northward to New York City for a new adventure.

First of all, what a phenomenal city! To wake up and step into the pulse of that metropolis is an exhilarating feeling, something I'll forever be glad to have experienced as a resident. Take solely the island of Manhattan. What a spectacle to witness the energy and brainpower from around the globe that has descended upon a skinny rock at the mouth of the Hudson River. Block after block after block teems. And I'm not just talking about Wall Street (which doesn't teem after hours, incidentally!), Little Italy/Chinatown, Greenwich Village, and Midtown. I'm talking about the whole damn island. I worked way up near 170th street in an area that isn't even included on most Manhattan maps. This area was alive with swarms of people at all hours, and that's just one example of an oft-ignored part of the City that's bumpin'. The city's alive on the surface and its underbelly is crisscrossed with a hidden world of trains that never sleep. Viewing the skyline from Brooklyn never failed to make my heart beat in appreciation of the ingenuity and vitality that erected those forests of buildings.

[If you love history and have about 15 hours of free time on your hands, I can't express enough how incredible is Ric Burns' PBS documentary "New York: A Documentary Film". Starting with the arrival of the Dutch in the early 17th century, this 8-disk series traces the history of New York City throughout the last 4 centuries (from the arrival of the Dutch until post 9/11). The narrative is engaging and the paintings, photos, and videos visually capture how old and rich is the fabric of that city.]

But for a real taste of New York, hop across either the Hudson or the East River and check out the surrounding areas. To the west you've got northern New Jersey. Up above you've got the Bronx, Westchester and swanky Connecticut. Go east and you're trekking through Queens or Brooklyn, then the NYC satellite communities, then the real Long Island. If Manhattan is the engine, herein is the fuel. If Manhattan is the dish, herein is the spice.

The real ethnic neighborhoods and Bohemian enclaves are in the boroughs. When you want something authentic and unadorned with needless (and expensive) frills, head across one of New York's incredible bridges (arguably, my favorite structures in the City). Such places can be found in Manhattan, but they're not easy to spot (actually, in parts of Brooklyn and Queens--some of which I know fairly well--this same scenario is already transpiring in its nascent stages, but nowhere near the same level). Instead, in Brooklyn and Queens it's pretty common to walk out of a subway and hear most people speaking another language. I remember one adventure-walk I took during my last round of unemployment (disturbingly, not too long ago!) in Brooklyn where I wandered into the Hassidic Jewish neighborhood. I honestly thought I was in a movie as throngs of bearded men with enormous hats briskly crossed streets with hands clasped pensively behind their backs and women clad in garments reminiscent of catholic nuns rushed by escorting their bountiful offspring in strollers. In my neighborhood of Greenpoint Brooklyn you might initially scoff at any claim of diversity because many people are white. But soon, you'll realize that you can't understand a thing anyone's saying because they're all speaking Polish! Oh, and about 4 blocks down is a heavy concentration of Hispanic families and Spanish reigns. This is just one example. In essence, if cultural and ethnic diversity is a driving factor in your decision to move to New York, you are absolutely choosing the right spot. Know, however, that your interests will likely draw you away from Manhattan into the other boroughs (and northern New Jersey).

I lived in two neighborhoods in Manhattan and two neighborhoods in Brooklyn. Everywhere felt very urban. But in Manhattan your beer will cost $7 and fries don't come with that burger. [And beware of the cheapest spots, including a buffet Indian restaurant that sometimes unintentionally adds roaches for extra flavor--I'm not kidding, I saw a worker scoop a roach out of a tub of curry chicken, shrug his shoulders and say, "welcome to New York!"]. In Manhattan, you'll see Hispanic and African American women pushing strollers with pasty white kids inside. Guess what, those women probably don't live there, and if they do, they likely live up in Harlem where prices are creeping up fast and traditional communities are dissolving. Head to NYU where the unshaven, tight-jeaned hipsters relax in Washington Square. But don't ask too many questions because the conversation stops at the Trust Fund.

Everywhere, you feel this incessant rush to be the most hip, secure an apartment deal, make your train, see the new club, and on an on and on. These things can be productive or destructive. The rush leads to things moving at a lightening pace. If you have the right personality and your sh*t’s together, you're plugged in and cruising. But the rush also allows less time for digestion and contemplation, so you start to wonder if your lightening progress is moving in the right direction. You need a break from New York to thrive in New York.

Manhattan is large enough and complex enough to maintain a real sense of ethnic diversity. Beware, however, because even the last bastions of this are disappearing faster than you'd believe. The same apartment my aunt rented a decade ago in the East (Greenwich) Village is now renting at atleast twice that rate if not more. Most of the newcomers are white professionals. Manhattan is being overtaken by over-compensated white kids whose name-brand degrees bought them positions at Goldman Sachs and midtown Hedge Funds. Trust me, I see my own cynicism and don't particularly like it. Many elements of gentrification are positive (not to mention that I know some great, hard-working people with those ‘name-brand’ degrees for whom I have a lot of admiration): dangerous areas transform into safe, clean neighborhoods; more businesses are attracted which generate new jobs; schools improve; these improvements spur improvements in adjacent neighborhoods and the movement spreads. But lets be honest, an overwhelming number of one race from similar socio-economic roots is represented and an overwhelming number of professions are not represented. In my opinion, this is a travesty for the city. The groups that give New York (and any other locale) its flavor are flocking across the rivers into the other boroughs. Manhattan is for the wealthy, period. I think there's more than one way to improve a neighborhood and I can't help but think these are short-run wins instead of long-run wins.

So here's the thing about New York, in my opinion you need atleast one of the following to really be happy there today (in order of decreasing importance): lots and lots of money, a connection for housing, the ability to get away, or family and friends in close proximity.

I had basically none of these things (to a small extent, the last), which eventually made the city unappealing. Although other factors contributed, it came down to one crucial fact: New York is prohibitively expensive for the lifestyle it affords someone on my budget. It's a world-class city that attracts the best and the brightest from across the globe. Its rich history is enchanting. If you consider the boroughs and northern New Jersey, it's gotta be one of the most diverse areas on earth. But in order to live there, people of modest means must move farther and farther from the epicenter. Manhattan itself just feels like too much of an elite museum. I didn't move to Manhattan to grow rich in the financial game (although I did, unsuccessfully, interview for some finance jobs because I thought it'd be interesting to see that world from the inside). What really attracted me was the cosmopolis itself. I wanted culture and cutting-edge creation. I found some of that but it was mostly outside Manhattan. Manhattan is now almost exclusively for high-end (brow?!) culture, but I often find that profoundly less interesting, not to mention profoundly less accessible! I prefer to see the workhorses on the ground floor fighting for their passions instead of those being handed their entitlement. I scratched the surface on the Brooklyn scene and liked some of what I saw. But Brooklyn is still really expensive and it's far enough away from the big, pretty buildings to make me question what I was doing there. I felt like I could really plug into some neighborhoods but never had any hope of plugging into the city itself...and wasn't quite sure if I wanted to anyways.

My aunt lived in Manhattan for a couple decades spanning roughly the mid-70's through the mid-90's. Many of those years were spent as a social worker in the Lower East Side. She sometimes lived in penury but always lived happily. She speaks with unadulterated fondness about the ethnic food, the bazaar of different people, and the creative vibe that dominated. I can't help but think that her New York was quite different from mine. Namely, one could still reasonably expect that such an existence be Manhattan-centric. Today, that is not possible without a flush bank account or a nice connection, which already implies a disruption of the demographics. If you have those things, Manhattan is still an incredible place. But please, know that it’s different today than it was yesterday and, please, don’t rent!

So…..what?
I wasn’t alone in my analysis of New York. K’s likes/dislikes aligned with mine as our adventure together continued. Hers is a saga in and of itself that isn’t mine to share here. Suffice it to say, revelations only come if you’re willing to stick your neck out and test the water. And once they do arrive, it takes a whole new reserve of strength to face the barrage of doubts from others and transfer those schemes into reality. She’s done this in grand-fashion over the last year and I couldn’t be more proud of her.

So we repaired to the nearest pub and took stock of our scenario in the only suitable fashion: over a frosty pint.

For me, the professional consequences were foremost on my mind. New York will always be there and my roots were relatively shallow, so extricating myself was simple on most fronts. However, although I had some real issues with my position at Columbia, the educational opportunities alone made such a position (which was nearly impossible to land, and I only secured after 6 months of persistence) tough to relinquish. Also, I would be dealing with a 4-month blight on my resume and likely heading towards another bout with unemployment. But here’s a crucial bit of self-knowledge I’ve gained in the post-college years: location is absolutely critical for me. There are many jobs and great academic programs I won’t even consider if that involves living in an unappealing location for a significant length of time. My second position at the National Academies in DC was phenomenal in many ways, but I still stepped out onto streets that didn’t embrace my full potential for inspiration. New York is not unappealing in an absolute sense, but it quickly becomes so given insufficient resources.

Life in New York is a battle…but it's not that I'm afraid of a battle. Nothing comes easy…but I'm not asking for an easy road. All I'm asking for is to find a battle worth fighting. And I know this might sound harsh to some dear ears, but I couldn't justify fighting the battle in New York. The spoils of that war were insufficient for the sacrifice. I have too many priorities that couldn't be met by that city (at this time) and I wasn't willing to pay the astronomical price to indulge just a few of my passions. Perhaps I'll reside in New York at another point, but I'll either have lots and lots of money, a connection for housing, the ability to get away, or family and friends in close proximity. Either the first or the second, combined with either the third or the fourth, would be absolute requirements. For now and into the indefinite future, a couple yearly visits will suffice.

Therefore, it was a surprisingly easy decision for K and I to decide it was time to go.

But where?

Which brings me to Chicago, literally.
The answer was simple: Chicago.

Here are the characteristics for my ideal home:
A cosmopolis, first and foremost.
Four distinct seasons.
The juxtaposition of quaint neighborhoods and a thriving, vertical downtown.
A significantly sized and clean body-of-water/river.
Relatively-affordable, interesting, clean, safe, decently-sized housing.
Few rainy days; give me snow over cold rain.
Mind-blowing architecture.
An encompassing network of public transportation.
Incredible food.
History.
An eclectic, thriving, worldly, educated, unpretentious populace.
Great, distinctive, comfortable coffee shops.
Great, distinctive, comfortable pubs.
World class universities.
A promising economy.
Bike friendly and pro-physical fitness atmosphere.
A place where I feel comfortable yet constantly challenges me.
Clean, abundant park space.
Easy access to the outdoors.
Easy access to mountains.
Easy access to the ocean.
Athletic teams.
Affordable, abundant flights to my hometown.
Affordable, abundant flights to everywhere else on earth.

It’s funny because (I don’t think I’m exaggerating here) Chicago is just not on the radar screen of most people on the West Coast. We west coasters relish our society, lifestyle, and the unparalleled natural beauty outside. When most of us think about possible other cities in the US that might satisfy such high (and unique) standards of living we have fairly predictable list of possible choices (Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego…maybe some inland choices like Denver, Austin, Salt Lake City…then the few east coast selections such as Boston, Brooklyn, the Research Triangle, or possibly DC. This might sound preposterous to people from elsewhere, but I really don’t think Chicago is a city that most west coast people consider as livable, even given it’s immense population and popularity as a sports-city and history hub. I think most of us heard the words ‘midwest’ and ran screaming away from the Chicago brochures…especially eschewing the thought of ‘eclectic’ and ‘worldy’ fitting the bill.

[I was actually hesitant to even mention this, but let’s be honest, this thing doesn’t have the circulation of the Washington Post (or the Fort Washington Post)…]

Homies, if you haven’t already realized, think again! I can safely say that Chicago satisfies, to a greater or lesser degree, 22 of the 24 criteria above. And no, Wisconsin doesn’t have the Cascades, Rockies, Sierras, Chugach, or Alaskan Ranges, but it’s downright gorgeous up there and it’s pretty close. Seriously. There’s even a few mounds that people ‘ski’ down! And as for the other missing criteria, parts of Chicago’s north-side waterfront could easily be mistaken for southern cali’s beaches, minus the five-footers. Trees and parks are everywhere, cool neighborhoods abound, downtown is accessible and energetic yet not chaotic, the trains run above ground (something anyone who’s ridden the dark subways of NYC will appreciate immediately), if you enjoy cold/snowy winters the weather is phenomenal. The prices are big-city level, but not outrageously inflated ala NYC and parts of San Fran and Los Angeles. If you have important people that live east or west but don’t travel much, you can’t beat the location and accessibility/price of flights. Furthermore, you’ll see all kinds here. Quite simply, the city kicks complete ass and will likely blow you away. But, shhh, don’t tell anyone. This is our 9.4 million person secret (entire metropolitan area; 2.9 million in the city itself).

On my PDL preferences list, the only other American city that contends with Chicago is San Francisco (Philly would rank highest of the East Coast contenders). But, hey, the location and lifestyle I’d want in San Fran (not extravagance) puts me back in the NYC economics dilemma, not to mention I really like my seasons. There’s a reason Chicago just won the US bid for the 2016 Summer Olympics. It’s down to a handful of global contestants (Rio de Janeiro, Madrid, Prague, and Tokyo look like the real competition) and I’m guessing Chicago is at the top of that list.

After visiting Chi-town many times in the last couple years, I’d totally fallen for it. After realizing this, I could never think of New York as anything more than a stop along the way to either here or San Fran. For the reasons above, Chicago was the obvious first choice.

Who knows how long I’ll be here but I can tell you this: my quasi-wandering over the previous 3 years has been a deliberate effort to educate myself on other parts of the country and determine where I’d most like to settle for a few years and build something. Chicago is very likely the place where I sacrifice the least and gain the most. The international phase of my life will probably have to wait for another degree or some unexpected professional opportunity. Whether this involves consistent traveling or even living abroad for awhile, it will come, I promise. You see, my life is intended as one ever-improving adventure and I think Chicago is where I will mold that reality in the near-future. In Brooklyn, I finally gained a small taste of stability (and the opportunities for growth that stability affords) and I decided I was too impatient to wait for the next step along the way. I knew what I wanted, I knew it would benefit me immensely in the long run, so sacrifices and seeming-insanity were small prices to pay in the short run!

So, yes, I now live in Chicago.

Can you spell ‘career’ for me, please?
Let’s return to the near-term sacrifices. Namely, I now find myself again faced with the dilemma of unemployment. This has been a recurring theme of my post-college experience. I’ve moved numerous times and tried a number of jobs. Chicago is just the latest iteration of this script. You have to be willing to pay the consequences to undertake the path I’ve taken. It’s definitely not for everyone. In fact, I’m not sure I’d recommend it to many people. That’s not a statement of superiority/inferiority. It’s simply a concession that I needed to learn lessons in this manner and others may not need to do so. Because of my mobile lifestyle, I’ve surely sacrificed the consideration of many cool employers who don’t like my unintelligible resume. I also haven’t focused on further schooling which bumps that back a few years. Amen.

For years I’ve been struggling with finding direction. My profession has taken a backseat to geographical exploration, friendships and relationships, and generally establishing a personal philosophy. Without that foundation, I’d be building something structurally unsound (feel free to vomit at this point). My ultimate vision was never compromised, but this (professionally speaking) side stuff had to come first.

So now I’m here with some time on my hands, and I’m wondering what the hell am I doing with myself?! I tore through Po Bronson’s book that’s been sitting on my shelf since Portland, I took online character/skills/aptitude tests, I consulted family, I bought a career-counseling book. All of this has been helpful to expand my vision, but it’s also a bit overwhelming and convinces me that there’s no easy answer. My interests are varied and complex and there’s lots of other people like me with voracious appetites. Maybe I’ll see a Career Counselor but a few hundred bucks seems like a lot to an unemployed dude (exercise, find the logical flaws in Phil’s argument).

The underlying staples of my universe are rationality, objective analysis, creativity, good-conscience-productivity and humor. But these characteristics can fit into so many professional outlets. It’s both a confusing and exciting experience to simultaneously—and quite seriously—consider each of the following paths/careers within a five-day span: physics PhD, biophysics PhD, financial analyst, space lawyer, intellectual property lawyer, MBA, international relations, engineering PhD, Biomedical Engineering PhD, Computer Science PhD, journalist, novelist, actuary, restaurateur, teacher, psychiatrist/psychologist, architect, graphic designer.

Has anyone else gone through this career exploration phase? Probably most, to some degree. By no means have I reached any life-altering decisions, but it has been a productive period of introspection.

Phil, wake up to the rest of the globe!
Unexpectedly, what’s helped me most recently is picking up another book I’ve been meaning to read; this one having nothing to do with career exploration.

Quite simply, please listen to this: if you have not read Thomas Friedman’s book, “The World is Flat: A Brief History of the Twenty First Century” (2005), pick this book up soon.

For anyone who even takes a few minutes to glance at the news headlines each day, the content is nothing unexpected: India, China, and Eastern Europe are rising and the global playing field is being leveled. The genetic lottery of being born middle-class (or better) in the US will soon not prove as meaningful. We all know this, kind of.

What this book does, however, is detail the incredible extent to which this has already happened (not to mention that this book considers the world as it was way back in late 2004 and things have been changing at light-speed since), the reasons it has happened, and the long-term consequences for Americans. It’s just a nice summary of lots of important stuff and I think any American entering the workforce or considering more schooling should read it.

This book is phenomenal because it does two things. First of all, it will alarm you and scare you. Secondly, it will inspire you. Friedman isn’t issuing a call to nationalism. Instead, he’s telling America that we need to work our asses off to remain global leaders (even global players) in most industries. He focuses a lot on science and engineering because they traditionally have driven markets and will do so to an even greater extent in the future. But really, it’s the same for any professional endeavor (accounting, law, marketing, healthcare, etc.). He thinks, and I agree, that everyone benefits from a flattening world, including Americans, but we’re just going to have to work harder to really benefit. There’s going to be some uncomfortable times during the transition for people of all ranks and we’ll need to iron out political policies that allow for the much-needed transition but also cushion those being adversely affected and get them back in the new ballgame.

For individuals, it’s going to get more competitive because there’s more people being educated around the world and most of them have greater appetites than you and I. Most of them will accept less for their work. What that means is that we need to actually take advantage of our world-leading education system and continue to improve ourselves. This doesn’t mean you have to go get an engineering PhD (although we do need those). It means that instead of killing your mind with laziness, go learn something that challenges you and gives you the tools to create something novel or contribute something impressive. It might not even be a traditional degree, but instead a combination of skills that are unique (aka, a cartoonist who understands basic computer programming and speaks Polish). That sort of thing.

So where this leaves me now is convinced of a couple things. First of all, the world is becoming progressively more tech-driven and I don’t want to drown in this. I want to participate. It has re-inspired my natural attraction towards science and instilled the pursuit with more meaning. I haven’t been able to focus on any field for graduate studies because anything outside of science leaves a huge part of me unfulfilled, yet anything in science takes a significant amount of dedication and will shield me from other things I’m interested in for awhile. But now, I’m finally at a point where I can look longer-term and understand that in order to participate in this world in a meaningful way, you must receive more specialized training. Once you have that, then you can spread your creative wings and attempt to combine all your interests.

Secondly, I don’t have to have the grand-scheme picture entirely figured out right now. My uber-career might be in an area not even envisioned right now because things are moving so fast! Instead, I just need to learn something and apply myself. I know a PhD physicist who’s working in financial analysis in Manhattan right now. He has no regrets about lost time and he loves what he’s doing. He also loves what he studied. The key was that he took it to another level. For him, that meant getting a PhD. What he’ll have in common with someone else doing something completely different is just that they both applied their minds and their energy. Maybe they both read Friedman’s book, or maybe they were his case-studies for success!

So I had a second interview at U of C today working in research that coordinates a medical unit with engineers, chemists, and physicists. That sort of cross-disciplinary work is the wave of the future and I love it both philosophically and for the way it promises to benefit humankind. It’s a microcosm off the integration happening globally. Again, that’s something I don’t want to fear, but something I want to partake in. So whereas awhile ago I might have dwelt on being stuck in a lab and missing other opportunities, now it seems an amazing opportunity for me to improve my knowledge of many branches of science, enhance my tech skills, apply myself creatively, and work towards some yet-undefined ultimate expression of myself. Plus, there’s always time after work for the other interests.

So the U of C thing would be phenomenal and hopefully it'll happen. But the workforce is cutthroat right now, so maybe I’ll be working for a staffing agency next week answering the phone for some VP as I make my appointment with the career counselor to formulate Plan B. Hopefully not, but we’ll see.

And finally, there’s this bloggy thing.
Some periods are for me and only for me. I'm actually quite careful with what I'll spill on a blog. With some topics, I have no problem communicating through this medium with candor and openness. The nauseating length of this post offers proof. Sometimes, however, instead of interpreting the world on these pages I need to have the liberty to extricate myself and process more privately.

2006 was not for this medium. Many reasons contributed, which I won’t discuss here. I don’t foresee disappearing like that again anytime soon. Sorry to all my loyal fan (singular). I’m still deciding where I want to take this thing. Maybe less topical and more creative stuff at times. Probably not daily posts, but atleast weekly. We’ll see.

Please, stay tuned.

Voyages '04

Here's a set of pics I transfered from Snapfish to my Flickr account recently. They're from my Alaska/West Coast/Driving-across-country/DC adventures in 2004.

Life in pictures: DC to NYC (9/06-2/07)

Here's my world in 41 (42) pics that explores the odyssey from DC to NYC.

The District in all its glory

While walking along the banks of the Potomac this weekend, I was reminded how spectacular DC is in the autumn. Sunny, fresh days and crisp, cold mornings and nights. Although I had to capture yesterday's images only in my memory, it made me recall a day at exactly this time last fall when I set off with a pair of sneakers and a camera to catch some shots of the area (unemployment does have some benefits!). Here's a few more of my favorite images from that day.

A public service announcement from way out...

What do you tell someone when they ask you what you're doing next Tuesday evening, October 25th? Obviously, you tell them that you're heading over to NW 17th in DC (which might require a rather lengthy flight for some) and checking out the Drag Queen Races. Come watch as I parade others parade their flamboyant glamour for the world to see followed by a mad-dash down 17th. It's a great way to get inspired to exercise during the cold, grey winter months by observing the finest examples of she-male physique. See the 'other' you there.

Escalating excitement for everybody

I had an interesting talk with my roommate, Atif, last night about the merits of escalator systems. Atif, a worldly gentleman with an acute interest in urban development, described to me how the Public Transportation system in Kiev, Ukraine contains no such escalators and, instead, utilizes an extended ramp system to facilitate subway riders issuing forth from the train platform to sunlight and vice versa. From the sounds of it, however, the subway trains run essentially directly below the ground. Therefore, although the idea of conserving electricity, encouraging exercise, and simplifying the aesthetic tantalizes the imagination, it simply isn’t practical in every metropolitan area.

DC constitutes one such area where subways cannot always run directly below the ground. Due to gentle, but consistent elevation changes, a meandering creek bed with a steep, deep drop, and the depth of stable ground at some locations, DC’s metro boasts some of the longest escalators in the world. In particular, the Wheaton Metro on DC’s Red Line hosts the longest escalator in the Western Hemisphere at a length of 230 feet (the Forest Glen station, just preceding the Wheaton station, is actually deeper at 196 feet, but the only access in and out is via elevator).

Which leads me to my next point: why didn’t anybody tell me about the escalator system in Hong Kong. Jerks. For the unschooled riff-raff like myself, Hong Kong boasts the world’s longest outdoor escalator system in the world. The escalator system provides such essential transportation for Hong Kong’s commuting masses, that they treat it like an expressway in the United States (think Seattle). In the morning, the escalators operate only downhill for the workers to descend to the business districts, and then operate from 10am until midnight only uphill. This escalator system, christened the Mid-Levels Escalator, consists of 20 escalators and 3 moving sidewalks. It is 800 meters long, and climbs 135 vertical meters. If you were the typical American and let the escalator do all the work, total travel time takes 20 minutes.

I just gotta know, has anybody ever run the entire 800 meters upward against the down escalators? Epic.

A DC night.

Living in DC does afford some unique opportunities. After leaving work last night, I grabbed some indian food and walked about a mile to the Supreme Court building to file past Chief Justice Rehnquist's body as he lay in repose in the Great Hall. The crowd, as far as i could analyze, consisted mostly of Hill staffers congregated and socializing in small groups. Although the crowd didn't exude rowdiness, neither did they stand in silent mourning. I think by the time I arrived, more people were attending to drink in a bit of history than to lament the death of an American giant (regardless of your political sway, you can't deny Rehnquist's stamp on the current American political and social milieu). I would count myself mostly among the former and slighly among the latter. Here's a couple more pics that might be of interest. Actually, they're not particularly exciting, I'm gonna just say that straight up. Hey, let's see you file past a dead body ringed by secret service and make it more interesting. jerks.

Respected Local Publication's Standards Plummet-DCist Post

Hello, hello, hello. I've been remiss in updating, and for that, i am one sorry dude. sorry to the point that i'm banging my head on a concrete wall, unleashing soul-piercing wails of anguish. i got some weird looks in the coffee room. Anyways, I've been gulping in the joys of Chicago and hope to post some pics later on.

In the meantime, that something i wrote a couple days ago ended up turning into the something else. Here's a link to a revised article I wrote for DCist about Sudan-oriented efforts in DC. Hopefully (for me, not the general populace), this will be the first of many contributions.

Cathartic creation

Everybody has their little secrets. Many have their big secrets. In the fall of 2004, Frank Warren decided he wanted to hear the unspeakable spoken. Warren, a successful businessman in the medical research field living in Germantown, Maryland, distributed blank postcards all around the DC area with a return address and the following instructions:

'You are invited to anonymously contribute a secret to a group art project. Your secret can be a regret, fear, betrayal, desire, confession or childhood humiliation. Be brief. Be legible. Be creative.

Not only did he get a few returns, his mailbox soon overflowed with responses. His unique, yet modest idea for inclusion in a local art exhibition has since blossomed into a project of international scope. Having surpassed 5 million hits on his website and catalogued over 3,000 postcards, this ‘accidental artist’ now spends more time on his postcard project than at his real job. For a more involved history and analysis of Warren’s work, The Guardian recently detailed this anomalous art in an article fittingly entitled ‘Secret Service’. NPR also aired a piece in March.

I think the person who introduced me encapsulated the feel of the website best: Some of them are funny, some are trite, some are artistically beautiful, and some of them you can relate to. I guess its liberating, to unburden yourself of secrets...to strangers. Why is it that we are so afraid that the people closest to us can't handle the truth? I highly recommend taking a few minutes and checking out his website because the selections are pretty moving.

The hype continues to grow as Melbourne-based composer Sasha Stella decided to create a music/theatre performance based upon the project which promises to entice along the same vein as the Vagina Monologues. On top of that, a book is in the works and a number of exhibitions have been planned.

This morning

The mechanical hum started in May. It hasn’t stopped since. Those regulating fans keep the office, the restaurant, the apartment, the post office…the whole city, really, at an even 71 degrees Fahrenheit on their ever-vigilant watch. The radiating, swampy heat always pulses just outside the door, waiting to smother you in its sticky, wet embrace. Heat indexes creep towards red, your lungs burn, your eyes sting, your clothes are soaken through; you succumb to the novacaine-chill of a closed door and filtered light. It’s a sedative that makes it all go away, including the joy.

But then it changes. You step outside, ready to repeat the rehearsed steps of a hackneyed, tired dance when a soothing paralysis arrests your steps. Everything looks the same: cars and drivers shuffling along, intent walkers with headphones and newspapers, an occasional honk. But something’s changed. The leaves shimmer with a newfound vigor. The light forgives instead of burns; in fact, it’s graceful and accentuating and soft. An invisible burden and an almost imperceptible scowl dissolve into a newfound enthusiasm. The right song seems easier to find and possibilities flood your neurons. You claim your ground, understanding the fight is far from over. But you claim your ground.

This federal city has generously hosted the masses, sacrificing its streets and shops, its grasses and cafes. But now its time to reclaim a forgotten city and bid a fond farewell to the adventurers and admirers that made their way here. It’s time to relax and focus on where we are and where we’re going. It’s time for grounding and embracing and thinking and singing and relishing. The summer provides that elsewhere, but dc’s summer days are something else; something neat, but something else. Now, it’s time to step outside.

And you know what that feels like? A breath of fresh air.

Ronald Reagan Boulevard, Good Riddance/ Personal Crap

For a number of reasons, I’m moving. My wacky-wild-Koolaid-style roommate recently accepted a position through the Department of Justice working in the International Zone (Baghdad) on the DOJ team advising and assisting the Iraqi Special Tribunal. These dudes are responsible for prosecuting Saddam Hussein and his cohorts. When not serving in that paralegal-esque capacity, he will be painting walls. Either way, he's no longer sleeping in the other room.

So that jazz, a completed lease, and a sweaty walk up a hill every afternoon convinced me it was time for a new adventure. I’ll be living close to the National Zoo in the Woodley Park area of DC in a beautiful 6-bedroom, 4-level house. I don’t know any of my roommates yet. Two others have been chosen. All I know from my landlord is one works at the World Bank, one is in real estate, one is 25, one is 29, one is from Pakistan, and nobody knows from where the other hails. Please choose-your-own-adventure and combine those aforementioned characteristics to form two roommates (when you guys are reading this a month or two later because I’m forcing you at gunpoint, please forgive my mish-mashing). The rest are on the way. Cameras monitor every nook and cranny in the house and the show is set to air on MTV in the Spring of ’06. Word.

My third floor room is small, but the single window provides a spectacular view of the Swiss Embassy across the street and the top of the National Cathedral in the distance. I'm hoping the bells increase my number of conscious hours on a typical Saturday. If I get hungry, I can sneak up to the cathedral flower garden and eat roses. Also, the house comes complete with a functioning xylophone. I mean, c’mon. Please contact me personally to receive an updated mailing address where you can ship fan mail and exotic animals after September 10th.

rant, rant...rave, rave

I have issues with this article in the 'Style' section of the Post today. In a nutshell the article praises shade as the glorious alternative to summer's blistering sun. Stylistically, it weaves its message in a semi-poetical, semi-philosophical, semi-I'm-writing-an-essay-for-my-CreativeWriting101-class sort of way. All that is well and good.

Two things:

1)They use the following quote:

"Shade is a big-time thing these days," says Michael Jones, a federal government
worker, mopping sweat from his brow in Lafayette Park yesterday afternoon. He
watches a game of blitz chess at one of the concrete tables set up around the
park's walkways, standing about three feet out of the sunlight. "There are days,
over in Dupont, where we'll actually pay one of the homeless guys to move from a
chess table in the shade."

Are you F'ing kidding me! First of all, nobody should ever think that, let alone say it. Secondly, the Post printed it! If you can convince me the editor/author was making a subtle point about the arrogant demeanor of that man, and maybe by extension the typical DC professional in relation to 'homeless guys', perhaps i'd support it. But reading through the rest of the article doesn't leave that sort of impression. Instead, I think they printed it simply to try and relay the degree of sweltering summer heat in DC. It's not right to print that line in this context. It focuses on him saying 'it's hot' and ignores the fact that he's an ignorant, arrogant bastard. I don't want his quote representing me or anybody else melting in our swamp.

2)They make it sound like the shade actually does offer respite from the heat! That's the worst part of summer here: There is no escaping the heat. You can run for shade all you want, it's not going to do much. The humid heat literally swallows and suffocates you. I went running at 11 PM last night, after a thunderstorm came and supposedly booted out the evil heat spell we've been slowly rotting under. Granted it was cooler. Ten minutes into my run, however, i was dripping in sweat and overheating like a furnace. You just can't get away from it, ever. I strongly recommend that anyone who doesn't have towering political ambitions-or a return flight-avoid DC like the plague during summer months...even N. Virginia offers a pleasant escape.

sevenslashfourslashzerofive

A warzone of sorts on the National Mall where hordes braved security checkpoints to scope the show. The ever-lurking nastiness of DC's summer abated momentarily this weekend, allowing for a bunch of people crammed together like sardines in a tiny tin box (thank you, mr. yorke) to remain relatively unexasperated.



The Washington monument weathered a deluge of fireworks exploding in its midst. A cacophony of echoing explosions off the federal buildings to the north redoubled the relentless, deafening blasts. I have to admit, the show was pretty impressive from the Mall. Plus, I felt relieved to discover that I wasn't the only one making wise cracks about the phallic symbol's failure to use protection. C'mon, it was way too easy.

my backyard

I experienced a side of Washington DC last night that endeared itself to me immediately. An overindulgence in unemployment last fall enabled me to explore most of the more notable sights in the area within a relatively short amount of time. It took a visit this week from my family, however, to reveal an obvious, yet strangely undiscovered fact about memorial-land DC: it's so much cooler at night.

Amid earsplitting thunder and downpouring rain, we made our way down to the National Mall last night and visited a couple of the memorials/monuments under cloak of darkness. As the rain puttered out, we found ourselves essentially alone to drink in the sights.

I tepidly praise the WWII memorial whenever asked about it by friends. During the day, I find it noble, yet bland; impressive as an idea, yet slightly neo-fascist (ugh!) by design. Furthermore, I think it struggles to distinguish itself as it sprawls as a shallow saucer across the mall. Upon nightfall, however, the lighting serves to transform the memorial into something more elegant. It feels like a distinct unit on the mall, instead of awkwardly bleeding into the surrounding grass as it does during the day. With a fresh rain upon the stones, the water fountains glistenened and cast a shimmering glow about the perimeter that made me feel like i was in giant fishbowl. The atmosphere embedded itself in my memory.






After the WWII memorial, we made our way to the Roosevelt Memorial. Although the cenotaph impressed me for its approachability and unique design the other times i've ventured that way, nothing compares to a night stroll through the meandering stones. This memorial doesn't seek to awe the visitor with towering statues, instead, most of the human figures stand life-size and accessible to hordes of seventh-grade groping hands...or 25 year old hands, for that matter. it felt like walking through a garden where each person could appease their own aesthetic palate with something enticing. Besides the occasional 747 roaring above, it was almost easy to forget that city trains and concrete melees teem just over the river or behind the trees...peace of mind in an unexpected spot.