A Big-Time Bummer

Apparently , Anna Nicole Smith was found nearly dead in her hotel room today. She was pronounced so by 3 PM. Any way you cut it, it's really very sad. I must say that I will miss her presence in the entertainment-news arena.

I know what you're probably thinking. I, Gavrich, do not seem like I would be sympathetic to Anna Nicole. But hear me out.

Anna Nicole embodied a lot of traits that are associated with America. She rose from humble beginnings (one of six kids in her family, raised in Texas) to fame and wealth by opportunism, a very "American" progression.

Smith gained that wealth in a rather dubious way, by becoming a naughtier version of the famed Marilyn Monroe. Like it or not, PLAYBOY is an institution that is thoroughly American, because (like it or not) of its total lack of subtlety as far as sexuality is concerned. Americans can be generalized with a great many adjectives, but "subtle" is not one of them.

After her decline in desirability due to a gain in weight and adoption of some bad habits--her uncomplimentary television show and horrid drunkenness at the MTV awards (I think) made her a laughing stock--in American fashion, she tried to turn her life around. America is a land of second chances, and it seemed that she was doing alright, especially after becoming the spokesmodel for Trimspa. But tragically, the death of her son proved devastating, and her death this afternoon was the end of an overall-unfortunate story. But in spite of this, you've got to admire her (albeit brief) turnaround, if not much else.

A few minor Americanisms about Anna Nicole (forgive me if I repeat myself***):
- Worked in both a Wal-Mart and a Red Lobster, both stereotypical American establishments.
- Resorted to stripping in order to support her son, met her future husband J. Howard Marshall, who was 63 years older than she.
- A lot of plastic surgery.
- Became a kind of Marilyn-Monroe, Jr. Marilyn Monroe herself (and her mystique) is thoroughly, undoubtedly American.
- Went bankrupt.
- Sued for half of Marshall's estate after he died--we Americans love our lawsuits.
- Reality TV show documenting her private life and antics.

***In these "Americanisms," I do not mean to be stereotypical, or to say that these are only American things. However, they can be closely associated with our great country, for better or worse.

I suppose only one set of lyrics is appropriate for this evening's offering:

Elton John/Bernie Taupin, "Candle in the Wind"

"Goodbye Norma Jean,
Though I never knew you at all
You had the grace to hold yourself
While those around you crawled.
They crawled out of the woodwork
And they whispered into your brain
They set you on the treadmill
And they made you change your name...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did...

Loneliness was tough
The toughest role you ever played,
Hollywood created a superstar
And pain was the price you paid.
Even when you died
Oh the press still hounded you,
All the papers had to say
Was that Marilyn was found in the nude...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did...

Goodbye Norma Jean
From the young man in the 22nd row,
Who sees you as something more than sexual
More than just our Marilyn Monroe...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did..."

Notes on the Evening of a Super Bowl

First of all, Hoorah Colts. Okay, got that over with.

Did anyone else notice that this evening's Super Bowl commercials were A) not up to snuff with previous Super Bowl commercials, and B) especially moribund? There was the heart-disease-awareness commercial which depicted a fairly scrawny, gray-haired guy dressed in a heart-shaped costume getting fairly ominously beaten-up by a variety of nasty-looking characters who represent various heart-related maladies (high blood presure, diabetes, high cholesterol, and the like). In another commercial, a GM car assembly-line machine contemplates and then daydreams of its suicide by jumping off a bridge. I'm not eight years old, but I found these (and the other questionably macabre) advertisemens to be a bit unnecessary. I could sense thousands of overprotective parents of small children staring, outraged at these commercials, and it was disconcerting. I guess the years of the Coca-Cola-Kid-Mean-Joe-Green-like exchanges in commercials are over, and pure sensuality is here to say.

Another Super Bowl-related revelation, what I am about to say will probably shock you, dear readers. I belive that Janet Jackson's right breast saved the institution of the Super Bowl Halftime Show from utter creative squalor. After the Wardrobe Malfunction, the people who organize the Halftime Show decided that recent "artists" (not necessarily musicians, remember) should not be trusted to give a properly entertaining show. As a result, we are allowed to hear actual music during Halftime of the Super Bowl. I (and most other sensible viewers) have enjoyed the Rolling Stones and Prince as the las couple Halftime Show acts. Just think, if it weren't for that bit of "accidental" exhibitionism, we would have had to suffer through a Halftime Show involving, the Pussycat Dolls, the Black Eyed Peas, and Panic! At The Disco.

Phew!

Tonight's lyrical selection:

Phil Ochs, "When I'm Gone" (I'm not depressed; it's just a neat song), last three verses:

"Won't see the golden of the sun when I'm gone,
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I'm gone,
Can't be singing louder than the guns when I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

All my days won't be dances of delight when I'm gone,
And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I'm gone,
Can't add my name into the fight while I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

And I won't be laughing at the lies when I'm gone,
And I can't question how or when or why when I'm gone,
Can't live proud enough to die when I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here."

A Hodgepodge

In preparation to write down Hamlet's "To be, or not to be..." soliloquy (for a grade) in toto tomorrow, I recorded myself speaking it into my laptop. Upon listening to it, I discovered that I've got an extremely annoying speaking voice, notwithstanding that I somewhat lisp words with a "ch" or "s," sound, such as "pitch," or "conscience," to name two in the very speech I am memorizing. There's nothing wrong with this; it's just odd to hear the difference between the sound of my voice as I hear it as I speak, and when I hear a recording of my speech. But to sum that up, I realized today that If I had to hear my voice from the perspective of others, I'd find myself pretty annoying too. So I apologize to you whose ears are ringing from my drivel.

Watch "JEOPARDY!". It'll make you smarter.

I think I'd like to go into politics, perhaps. There's not enough youth or humor in that field. I nearly just said I'd like to be president, but that's a cliché and a bit over the top. But either way, look out for a "Gavrich 2040" or "Gavrich 2044" campaign.

Now, this evening's lyrical selection:

Van Morrison, "Everyone"
"By the winding stream,
We shall lie and dream.
Well make dreams come true
If we want them to.
Yes all will come,
Play the pipes and drum.
Sing a happy song,
And we'll sing along.
Everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone..."

A Bit of Tersity

I learned a lesson in delicacy this evening. At my school's hockey game tonight against a rival school, I took to shouting a phrase of derision that I thought was clever and funny during the lull that happens after the cheers for a home goal. I got a laugh when I cried, "Get used to it!" after the first goal. But, on the second and third goals, I made comments that were not laughed at, and fellt quite silly--sillier than usual, in fact. So I'll try to be a little more tactful and selective in the future. But I'm skeptical of whether I'll actually hold myself to that.

Tonight's lyric excerpt:

Yes, "Owner of a Lonely Heart"
"Watch it now,
The eagle in the sky,
How he dancin' one and only.
You - lose yourself,
No not for pity's sake,
There's no real reason to be lonely.
Be yourself,
Give your free will a chance,
You've got to want to succeed."

To Blog, or Not To Blog (plus Bathroom-Humor!)?

...that is the (answered, since you are reading this) question. I really don't see the point of memorizing 32 lines of a play. Sure, it's one of the greatest passages ever written (and performed, of course), but what good is done by forcing us to memorize it for the sake of memorizing it? I would very much rather devote the time I will spend internalizing it (only to write it down on a piece of paper on Tuesday morning for a grade) to actually LEARNING (sorry, I'm not HTML-savvy enough to be able to put anything in bold or italics or any of that) the soliloquy. Memorizing it, contrary to the belief of the English teachers, will not cause us to grasp its meaning or brilliance in the same way that discussing it would. It'll just make those 30-some-odd lines the bane of our existence (pardon the wretched cliché) for the next three-plus days.

I'm sorry, that wasn't terribly deep or funny. But don't stop reading quite yet (tempted though you may be).

I was at Five Guys Burgers and Fries this evening (I received a great many weird glances from a gaggle of people with whom I attended middle school). Wanting to wash my hands before I received my Cheeseburger-with-mustard-fried-onions-and-sautéed-mushrooms, I headed for the bathroom.

The men's bathroom at Five Guys falls into the category of "one-holers," meaning that it is designed to be occupied by one person at a time, unless you aren't there to do what one normally does in the bathroom. Imagine my surprise when I saw BOTH a urinal AND a conventional toilet! What a waste of money! There's (theoretically) only going to be one person in the bathroom at a time, and one can easily use the conventional toilet for the purpose a urinal serves as well. Seems silly to me.

ONE MORE THING: NEW TIM'S VARIED MUSINGS INSTITUTION (hopefully)! I will try to get in the habit of posting some of my favorite song lyrics, as well as the name of the song and artist, at the end (or beginning, if the theme of the lyrics is relevant to my post) of my post. On certain days, I may just decide to post the lyrics, if I have a touch of "blogger's brain," a cousin of "writer's block." Please comment on the lyrics; I'd love to hear some input.

First set of lyrics:

Leonard Cohen, "Sisters of Mercy"
"O the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone,
They were waiting for me, when I thought that I just can't go on,
And they gave me their comfort, and later they gave me their song,
Oh I hope you run into them, you who've been traveling so long.

Yes you who must lose everything that you cannot control,
It begins with your family, but soon it comes round to your soul,
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned,
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.

They lay down beside me, I made my confession to them
They touched both my eyes, and I touched the dew on their hem
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn
They will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.

When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon,
Don't turn on the light, you can read their address by the moon,
And it won't make me jealous if I learn that they've sweetened your night,
We weren't lovers like that, and besides it would still be alright,
We weren't lovers like that, and besides it would still be alright."

Good night.

If the AXE Label Were Accurate

...my life would be decidedly more exciting, albeit totally early-Augustinian (Juicy, I hope you detect the reference).

Has anybody seen these commercials for AXE-brand products to make boys and men a little more olfactorily tolerable? You know, the one that shows approximately swarms of hundreds and hundreds women who can only be described by the superficial male public-generated word "hot," running with string bikinis a-flopping (along with that which lies under said bikinis) toward a fairly normal-looking kid/guy (aged 17-25, presumably), all because the aforementioned kid/guy sprayed himself with a little AXE Body Spray? I'm here to tell you not to take any stock in those commercials. The same goes for the TAG-brand body spritzing agent (I believe one of their commercials shows three successive levels of young womens' apartments with said female tenants "pole-dancing" around a continuous water pipe, the audience eventually seeing a guy taking a shower in the apartment above). My ratio of "late nights" has not increased, at least not the "late nights" that the body spray implies.

In other news...

Have you ever noticed how people seem to think you're weird, despite having a relatively narrow view of what sort of person you really are? If not, you should consider yourself very, very lucky. (Sorry for the abrupt change in tone; I'm stepping onto the "blogging-for-the-sake-of-blogging" bridge)

I just read that left-handed people are generally more adept at video games and athletic pursuits than right-handed people. (Yep, a few steps further onto the bridge...)

So...yeah...good talk... (I'm now doing "The Worm" on the middle of the bridge)

Good night. (I have finally jumped off the bridge and into the murky, uncertain, yet warm waters of sleepiness)

What An Incredible Rack (My New Years Eve)!

Now that I have your attention..

My New Years Eve night began with a most succulent rack of lamb with a dijon mustard and breadcrumb crust, garlic mashed potatoes. Then, I went with my family to see Ben Stiller's latest turkey, "Night at the Museum," and the night progressed in a downward direction.

The movie consisted of two full hours of every plot cliché available. And all the audience received in return was 10 minutes of novelty, a few chuckles, and a little bit of history. It was not exactly the way I would have chosen to close out my 2006. But, it was perhaps a fitting conclusion to a fairly ho-hum year with very little in the way of intrigue and excitement. But, such is my life, I suppose.

Anyway, perhaps I'll try to assemble a list of New Years Resolutions and post them, but perhaps not, if something else moves me more profoundly (goodness knows I love to complain).

A Brief Treatise on Restless Legs Syndrome, Better Known as Restless Pharmaceutical Company Syndrome

Here is my first outrage of 2007.

I've been seeing commercials advertising a drug that claims to alleviate the symptoms of Restless Leg Syndrome, marked by exactly what the name of the malady suggests.

It is, "described as uncontrollable urges to move the limbs in order to stop uncomfortable, painful or odd sensations in the body, most commonly in the legs. Moving the affected body part eliminates the sensation, providing temporary relief."

I'm sorry, this is just completely silly. Half of my peers (myself included), when sitting down, tend to move their legs up and down repeatedly. It's called Too-Much-Caffeine Syndrome or Nervous Person Syndrome.

On a related note, it's time to stop the excessive medication of America, especially American youth. More and more children are diagnosed with ADD and ADHD when their only real problems are lax parenting and lack of respect for others. I myself was suspected by my first-grade teacher to have ADD when in reality, I was just bored in her class. I was talkative because I finished my menial little tasks before my classmates did (but tenured teachers are a subject for another post). Thank God my parents recognized that I was just a weirdo, rather than a weirdo-in-need-of-ritalin...

More to come later perhaps (the night is young and all that).

What the Heck?

I am baffled by weird, silly, non-sensical names for musical groups. It seems like in times of complete blank-mindedness, musicians are wont to select words completely at random from the dictionary. I'm not passing judgement on music quality, but here are some examples of musical groups that just boggle the mind:
- Neutral Milk Hotel
- Architecture in Helsinki
- Be Your Own Pet
- Death From Above 1979
- Yeah Yeah Yeahs
- Handsome Boy Modeling School
- The Boy Least Likely To
- Saves the Day
- The Receiving End of Sirens
- Dogs Die in Hot Cars
- A Tribe Called Quest
- Goldie Lookin Chain
- Get Him Eat Him
- The Academy Is...
- Cute Is What We Aim For
- Panic! At The Disco (The exclamation point is what annoys me about this one)
- Jimmy Eat World

I'd love to hear explanations of some of these. I mean, there's a fine line between creativity and desperation for novelty. "The Who" and "The Rolling Stones" actually have clever connotations. I don't believe "Architecture in Helsinki" can tell us much about the band, other than the fact that they're weird.

Mall Outrage

Fcuking Motherfcukers!

So apparently there's a clothing company called French Connection, and it has a subdivision which it has so cleverly (**sarcasm**) named French Connection UK, creating the oh-so-swell acronym of "FCUK."

It is at this point that I wonder sadly at how blurred the line between cleverness and desperation has become. If a company has to resort to such a silly slogan that plays at the naughty instincts of its would-be customers, there's a problem. Especially if the consequence of purchases is people walking around with shirts that say, "FCUK on the beach" and other such dubious catchphrases.

Do not mistake my ire with an urge to curb the 1st Amendment, however. I just find it irresponsible to wear such an article of clothing in full view of small children in a mall. All it says about the wearer is, "Look at me! It looks like a swear word, but not quite! Ain't I got gall!" Call me boring, but that's really not very helpful in a society where the kids are already becoming worse-behaved and less respectful on the average. All I'm saying is that it's fine if you wear it in a place where people of your age will see it, but please, keep it away from the little ones.

Okay, there's the negative, but in the spirit of the Holiday Season, I'll leave you with a positive:

If you have never seen it before or recently, do try to watch the movie "Young Frankenstein" soon. It is delightful.

Setting a Dubious Precedent

So I woke up today later than I eer have in my life. After going to sleep at around 11:45, I woke up at 1:15, PM! I was astounded. I've never before slept so late into the day. 11:30 was my previous record, but I blew it out of the water.

I have to say, I was kind of upset that I slept so late. I've always prided myself on being a morning person, and today's somnambulatory (a favorite word of mine) events flew in the face of all that.

While it's nice to feel so well-rested, but it's depressing to have wasted so much of a day, especially since it gets dark so early. Ah well; I've got three weeks to regulate my sleeping schedule.
...
A couple people have actually remarked that my writings are amusing to them. So now I guess I'm under a little pressure to write more often. I'll try, but I can't promise. You know, my life isn't nearly as interesting as those of the people whose blogs I read. But I'll try to make the most of it.

Cheers for now.

Excitement!

So, today (12/6) was quite exciting. When visiting the school store and choosing today's form of self-indulgence (candy, don't you know), I saw it, on high, like a sign from the heavens. It screamed, "buy me, BUY ME!!!!!" And I did. So today marks day one of Gavrich's Bucket Hat Era.

Yes, you heard correctly (you've probably now figured that "exciting" might be a bit of an overstatement). I will be wearing a bucket hat from time to time. I decided that I just wasn't sexy enough in a plain-old baseball cap, so I've kicked the hunkiness up yet another notch with this recent purchase. So now, not only am I a totally righteous dude; I am a totally righteous BUCKET-HAT-WEARIN totally righteous STUD.

**Yes folks, it's Sarcasm! Designed to make you groan out of annoyance or anguish; hours of fun for all your friends! It's Sarcastic!**

I apologize for the above euphoric rant, and thank you for your understanding.

Today's Bits of Wonder

Perhaps I missed the societal memo, but when exactly did it become permissible to discuss defecation in great detail in mixed company? Now, call me old-fashioned, but I don't believe a young lady wants to know anything about the gastrointestinal misadventures of any of her male peers. For that matter, neither do most males.

In other news, have you ever listened to a song after a several-year hiatus? I did so some minutes ago. It was a song called "Daybreak," performed by a group called "Special EFX" an obscure contemporary of the only slightly less-obscure Pat Metheny Group (it's modern Jazz). I would be shocked, awed, and taken completely aback (in a good way!) if any of you reading this has ever heard of the song or group. Anyway, it was a great feeling, like a brief, mental sugar-rush.

Well, that's all I have for this evening. Just remember: don't go around talking about poo-poos among large groups of people. I don't think anyone cares about your bowel movements, and frankly, it's far beyond repulsive.

Post #20!

I've gotten into some really bad vacation-time habits over the past couple days. Due to some irrational fear of missing interesting television and a preponderance of late-night net surfing, I have gone to bed around 1:30 AM the past three nights. It's as though I'm too slothful to leave the couch for the comfort of my featherbed (sounds effeminate, but even the manliest man would enjoy sleeping on such a soft surface, I believe).

I have come to the following realization: I, Tim the Consummate Dork, am wasting far too much free time. I surf Wikipedia from time to time on these late nights, but never find anything of genuine interest. I need a hobby, or something interesting to become an expert on, or something to collect. Photography? Collecting fossils? Entomology? Bodybuilding (haha), perhaps?

I'm open to suggestions.

Well, I Passed...

...hoorah. I can now gorge myself on bird and starch and sweet without any worries.

Of course, I was astounded at how easy the examination was. It frankly concerns me. I now know exactly why so many undeservingly licensed drivers take their heavy metal weapons of locomotion onto the roads each day. All some of them had to do was back-in-park in a school parking lot, and then just stay inside the painted lines for ten minutes. But who am I to complain?

So if you see a white Acura TL with Connecticut plates traveling at the speed limit (or maybe one or two miles over the speed limit if I'm feeling really rebellious and naughty!), please do not be cross. It's just little ol' me, plodding along my cautious way.

An Event of Significance

Okay, I will be taking my driving test tomorrow...

Here's my problem with the whole system: If anyone who has been driving for more than a few months were to take the driving portion of the test, he/she would most likely fail, supposing the driving test is administered according to the letter of the driving regulations. No one comes to a full stop at a STOP sign. I have been passed a few times when traveling a mere two miles per hour above the speed limit. It's outrageous. The police forces of America could become some of the most profitable organizations in the world if they enforced traffic laws to the letter. It's truly remarkable, the recklessness of drivers.

Very Strange...

To those of you who read my blog but do not know what I look like, this may not register with you. Just understand that I'm not exactly an attractive specimen of humanity.

With the preceding in mind, imagine my surprise when a woman in Big Y (a shopper, not an employee), a fairly attractive woman of an estimated 30-35 years said to me (and I quote directly), "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Matt Damon?"

Needless to say, I was dumbfounded, and nearly laughed aloud, but be proud, dear readers, that I refrained, and said politely, "Thanks. I've actually never heard that before. But thank you." I'll admit that I held back a grin for the next ten minutes.

Even more surprising than the content of the question was the fact that the woman asked it completely unsolicited. Perhaps she said to herself, "Aww, this kid's shopping with his mother. That's sad; he could use a pick-me-up." Perhaps she was honest. All the same, I had thought that we Americans had become too uptight to say such things. And even though her statement was a bit unsettling, it's nice to know that there are still people who aren't completely encased in their own private bubbles of existence.

Two Interesting Items: An Idea And Then A Brief Reflection (unrelated)

Two things that came to fruition tonight...

First, the idea...

It seems to me that in many cases, captivating thespians are often brooding, quiet people (at least, as seen by those who do not know them well. They mostly keep to themselves and do not say much. BUT, when they are on stage, immersed in the body and mind of their characters, they are able to portray convincingly most any personality. Having seen a production of the one-act play "Museum" this evening, many of the more talkative, center-of-the-action characters are portrayed by people of that same introverted personality I just mentioned.

I believe a couple factors may be at work here. Possibility #1 is that these people are so insecure about their "real" lives that they have no other outlet for self-expression other than the stage. This seems to me a backward form of escape; it is most intriguing. The only way they can escape their own insecurities is in front of a crowd. I would like to think that the introverted people who played extroverts do not fall under this insecurity category, but I am unsure.

Possibility #2 is that acting is a grand catharsis. These people bottle up all of their creative energy during the days (weeks, months) leading up to performances, and just publicly explode with energy and vigor when called to do so. This is my hope. I do not hope for other people to be insecure, as Possibility #1 mandates. Surely they have value to add to the lives of others off the stage, no? Yet this cathartic manifestation of themselves is all most people know of them. Is this what makes them so very effective?

Sorry, I don't have many answers, although I am somewhat certain that most great actors and actresses fall under one of these categories (hopefully moreso under #2, though I am unsure). All I know is that because I am such an oddball in real life, I would likely be an ineffective actor. I'll leave that to the professionals who know what they're doing, because as you can see, I do not have much of a clue in this matter.

Now, the reflection (If you're still with me, I thank and applaud you. This shall be brief).

On the way home from a golf match during my Sophomore year, I burst out in a fit of laughter. Uncontrollable laughter, multiplied by the sight of abit of ketchup on a teammate's shirt. When my astonished, frightened teammates looked at me to see the cause of my hysteria, all I could choke out was "TOO MUCH SUGARRR!!!!" I was exhibiting behavior of someone affected by some illegal substance or another. In terms of sugar, I had had that day a Powerade, and then a soda and Frosty™ Dairy Dessert from Wendy's.

I experienced similar giddiness earlier tonight, albeit on an far smaller scale. I'd call it "moderately sustained light giggling." It got me thinking about the phrase, "high on life." Some people just say it just to say it, but I think that it's actually somewhat true in my strange case. I believe that there is something wrong (I'd actually say right) with me which causes my body to manufacture a dosage of natural "happy drugs," from time to time. Which is great. I'll never have to waste my money on outside stuff; I've got my own stock with me. Weird, eh?

Thoughts After a Few Moments' Facebooking

I have a Facebook account, and am a member of a group called Ultimate Facebook Project. UFP is a group of some 650,000 Facebookers. Thus, the "Discussion Board" section makes for entertaining reading, because it is a place where people who have never met (and likely never will) get together and discuss anything and everything. Here's a brief account of my findings.

Anonymity sure makes people horny. At least one of every three threads I've perused in the Discussion Board discusses sex at some point. And not shyly either. "What's your favorite position?," and "Best Places to Have Sex" topics are quite common. I followed one of the latter types of topic all the way through, nearly 6000 posts of it (over the last couple days, because frankly, I have no other way to fill hours). I never knew how much thought people could put into such a topic. Furthermore, I found out something unexpected; that the girls were just about as open in their comments as the guys (which brings to light all new wonderments of the ubiquitous male-female dynamic that need not be pondered now). But rest assured, there was an alarming amount of shameless hitting-on by the males.

To my surprise, the thread made it into the 5000s without going horribly off-topic, but the inevitable did happen. Two devoutly Christian girls came into the discussion, arguing that everyone would be damned to hell because of pre-marital sex. If there's one thing that seems to spread discontent, it's radical ideas. Naturally, these girls were much-berated for their statements. Though I too disagree with their opinions, I marvel at how others (mostly college students) fail to rise above the typical degeneration of such arguments and fail to posit any meaningfully interesting argument. I guess that the impersonal nature of Facebook still doesn't inhibit maturity in discussion when people try to stir the pot.

A College Essay: Looking for some peer-comments

The following is a draft of an essay I need for a supplement on one of my applications. I think I did a decent job. But please tell me what you think.

Here goes...

Though I am a male of 17 years old, I can say shamelessly that I still sleep in the presence of stuffed animals in my room. The one which occupies the most prominent location—leaning over the headboard of my bed, propped up between the bed and the wall—is a calico-patterned lion named Callie. The name “Callie” is short for “Calliope,” the Greek mythological Muse of Eloquence. Callie was given to me at birth by my Yia-Yia (Greek for “grandmother”).

Yia-Yia was an effervescent, strong-willed lady who in her lucid days always wore a smile, despite the frailty that accompanies old age. Between my earliest recollections of her and her passing, not a day elapsed when she did not take fewer than 12 separate medications in order to battle her high blood pressure, dementia, and malfunctioning liver and kidneys, among other afflictions. Though she would sound upset and resistant when my mother implored her to take these pills, a grin would always immediately take up residence, showing that her orneriness was merely playful. Whenever we brought her to our house to celebrate someone’s birthday, we would make a game of bopping the deteriorating, helium-filled foil balloons back and forth. The balloon would jerk back and forth intermittently, Yia-Yia laughing sweetly with every hit.

Yia-Yia’s cheeriness continued long into her convalescence, but as her mind, memory, and comprehension of faces and voices waned, so too did the laughing lady who occupied much of my childhood. However, I do not dwell on memories of her last few months; she would not approve of it. Instead, I recognize her positive influence on me. Whenever I went to see her, I knew to be as polite and articulate as possible. Yia-Yia deserved an attentive grandson as cheery as she. Thus, my time around her helped to shape my current character and ethics. I try my hardest to be a polite, compassionate young man every day, because it is what she invited and respected. Though I may be ornery and loud at times, I mean no malice.

In addition to my efforts to be a good son, grandson, brother, friend, and citizen, I have also been blessed with the gift of a sophisticated vocabulary and keen writing skills, which brings me back to the notion of my stuffed lion. I have never slept a night in my bed without Callie watching over me. And I can’t help but wonder if deep in her cotton stuffing, the spirits of Yia-Yia and the Muse concert to ease my sleep and inspire me to act honestly and kindly in my waking hours.

TWO IN A DAY (Because I have been inspired to do this 27-question thing)!

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
I would blow up the person whose AIM sreenname is laxattakkk05, because he/she is a bigot.

2.You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?
I'd eighty-six whichever group is at the top of the "Screamo" genre currently.

3.Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
I'd like to sock the person who came up with the game show, "Deal Or No Deal."

4.What is your favorite cheese?
I quite like a nice runny Brie.

5.You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind will you make?
I'd figure out how to make exact copies of the Chicken Cutlet Grinder at Franklin Avenue Giant Grinders in Hartford. If you've never had one, please do, and then you'll know what I'm talking about.

6.You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?
This may sound superficial, but I'd have to say Jenna Jameson. I figure she'd be extremely talented in such an activity as the question outlines.

7.You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who do you pick?
Maybe that gal Shakira. Especially if her "hips don't lie."

8. Now that you've slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy shit, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it?
Since I'd be so elated with the events of the day, I'd probably just hold onto it or invest it.

9.You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
I'd settle for a ticket to Myrtle Beach, headed for the family condo in Pawleys Island.

10.Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Shit! Now that you are in the new location, what are you gonna do?
Pay for the cab fare to the condo, necessary food provisions, and settle down for a quiet weekend of golf.

11.An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. It is...?
Well I am not really enamored of alcohol, so I'd choose perhaps an exquisite red wine, and sell a bunch of the bottles for a nice profit.

12.Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you traveling to and what are you going to do when you get there?
I'd travel back (assuming I could return to the present at any time) to Athens and listen to Homer recite "The Odyssey" (I hope that since it's a sophisticated time machine, I can be endowed with a thorough understanding for Ancient Greek).

13.You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
RULE 1: Be excellent to each other (I'm still happy from Rufus' visit)!

14.You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what's the premise?
It's just a camera crew following me around dirung the day. The name of the show is "Aren't You Glad You're Not This Kid?"

15.What is your favorite curse word?
I say "dammit" a lot (I know. Hardcore, right?)

16.One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?
I'd say, "Toilet paper delivery at THIS time of night?" Then they'd groan, leave, and I'd go back to sleep.

17.Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don't worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely.So what's the item?
I'm probably going to sound like the biggest sentimantal softie in the world, but I might save my stuffed lion, "Calliope," which my late grandmother gave to me at birth. "Callie" kinda keeps a symbolic watch over my bed. Sappy, eh?

18.The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
Have a good meal with family, then snap on some great headphones and put on Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue," with the ending to coincide with my own.

19.You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What's it gonna be?
The power to duplicate super powers for myself.

20.You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
A couple bus rides to golf team practice freshman year. Those sure were raucous. I miss those days.

21.You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
I don't know if there's anything I'd really erase. I haven't had any great embarassments, since I'm such a weirdo anyhow.

22.You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit... you can move to anywhere else in the world! Bitchin'! What country are you going to live in now?
Probably England. It's close to continental Europe, as well as Scotland and Ireland, which are phenomenally golf and culture-rich.

23.This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age. Check it out. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?
The bar at Max Downtown, so I can still have dinner there.

24.Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question.... If you did, then we'll just expand on that. Check it out... Suddenly, you have gained the ability to FLOAT!!! Whose house are you going to float to first, and be like "Dude, check it out... I can FLOAT!"?
My own house, and I'll just pester my family like I always do. But now I'll just be floating.

25.The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous-person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?
Since my power is the power of duplication of powers, I'd bring back Jim Morrison (musical genius) and Payne Stewart (then the US Ryder Cup team would have a chance.

26.The Celestial Gates of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn't think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person, etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
My father's mother or mother's mother. It sucks not to have any living grandparents.

27.What's your theme song?
None stand out, but since I'm on the proverbial spot, I'll take "Nobody's Perfect," by Mike + The Mechanics

If you've read all of this, bravo. Please IM with comments if you are so inclined. These are some pretty eclectic questions.

Ruminations

During my daily routine of casual observation of people around me, I've heard of some crazy times (or at least allusions to crazy times, because let's face it, I'm not in many "inner circles"). Many people seem to have interesting stories. That is, except me. I'm pretty pathetically boring--unable to relate to my peers. I really don't have any tales of intrigue, mystery, or excitement, from my personal life. That is to say, none that would interest a really wide group of people (most of my interesting experiences have to do with golf, and not many people want to hear about that)) Socially, therefore, I have very little going for me. If anyone has any suggestions that do not involve drugs or alcohol for adding a little "umph" into the fabric of my life, please feel free to throw some out.

Ramblings

Why is it that schools (at least mine) start to pile the work on for seniors to coincide with the college application process? I mean, isn't it in the best interest of the school to make it so that seniors are able to concentrate on completing their college applications, ESPECIALLY those who may be applying early (which seems to be the case for the majority of seniors at my school)? Seems a little hypocritical to me.

Why are all-boys schools mostly better at sports than co-ed schools while all-girls schools' teams seem to be worse than girls' teams at co-ed schools?

Has our society really de-evolved so much that it is now "uncool" to be polite? At the SAT dinner last night, I was ridiculed by others at my table for saying "please" and "thank you." That is outrageous to me.

What does being 17 years old mean that being 16 does not?

AND NOW THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE: What is the point of English quizzes that "make sure you've read the material" when they only test plot events and concepts that can be easily understood by reading SparkNotes or any evil equivalent? I have read every page of assigned reading so far this year, but I have a lower average on these quizzes than the slackers who only read the short version because they're too busy doing other things that are likely unproductive and wholly unnecessary.

Well Readers, I've Got One Question To Ask You: Brain, or No Brain?

I have had the misfortune to watch the show "Deal Or No Deal" on NBC on a couple of occasions. I am flabbergasted and appalled at the mindlessness of it.

There are 26 cases on the stage, each one held by an anorexic, failed runway model. There are different amounts of money in each case, randomly distributed, fom $.01 to $1,000,000. Your task is to pick cases to open, thereby eliminating that sum from the board. The object is to end up with as much money as possible. But here's the catch: you only need a voicebox to play! Brain Not Required! For effect, there is a silhouetted banker in a booth upstairs who makes monetary offers to the contestants. The silhouette has a very large nose. This is a shot at Jews in general, catering to the stereotype that Jews have big noses and are often bankers, and are thus snobbishly shrewd and unpleasant. I can't believe there's such blatant anti-Semitism on television, and that it is allowed to be perpetuated.

It's the dumbest game show ever invented, so it's naturally a big hit. The new season of DOND begins with a $6,000,000 bonanza. So, some idiot whose only qualification for being on the show is his/her idiocy, will get the chance to walk away with a pile of cash. Ain't the world cruel?

Some Deep Frustrations

Forgive my long-windedness, but I promise earnestly that I won't waste your time.

I am becoming slowly aware of the cruelty of high school. I've realized that I have a morbid role in the social structure of my school.

I am nothing more than the "Bearded Lady," the "Two-Headed Snake." A sideshow item, useful mostly in the amusement of others. And when they are satisfied, I am cast aside. It's kinda depressing.

I realize I have never been popular. I do not expect to be so. But the thing that pisses me off is how many people just flat-out REFUSE to acquaint themselves with something, or someone, different from what is already around them. In my case, there is a confluence of factors that has turned me into a monkey in a cage to many people.


I AM FAIRLY INTELLECTUAL: I do not mean to sound a braggart, but it's true. School and knowledge interest me. I am inspired by knowledge, far moreso than many people. As a consequence, I have become a resource. An encyclopaedia instead of a person at times. I am "uncool" because I like school. That sickens me more profoundly than any other evil. There is literally an infinitely high amount of untapped potential all around. I am guilty of it as well, but I know a large amount of people who could achieve so much more than they do currently.

Many of my AIM conversations with people I don't know very well usually consist of someone else asking me a question about school (an assignment, a draft of someone's essay), and that's about it. When their question is answered, they are finished. I seldom have a meaningful conversation with someone other than those I know better; they are few and far-between.

Now don't get me wrong; I love helping people. My idealistic hope is that the way I help them can help them in future times of confusion. It doesn't tend to happen that way. All they are looking for is a "quick fix," and the Gavrich Encyclopaedia is somewhat reliable, and free.


I AM POLITE AND ETHICS-CONSCIOUS: I am dumbfounded by the way a large number of people act. This is especially apparent in my observations of boys' behavior vis-a-vis girls. I am probably hopelessly, terribly old-fashioned, but in my ideal world, boys/men act differently in order to curry the favor of girls/women. I am fantastically awkward, because I am physically and emotionally averse to nearly all modern teenage male behaviors aimed at gaining respect in the eyes of the female population.

I do not swear or speak vulgarly in the presence of a girl or woman because I was raised to have high respect for them. I am sad when I see or hear a boy tell a dirty, derogatory joke in front of girls. And then I hear the uneasy laughter from the females within earshot.

The word "hot" in terms of describing a girl's/woman's looks makes me feel uncomfortable, because it is purely an estimation of superficialities. It objectifies girls and women in the basest way, and I believe they deserve far more respect than that.

Call me crazy, but isn't personality worth something? I'm sad to say that to a great many boys and young men, certain girls are just trophies. Outward beauty is the only relevant trait to most men (I believe, by the way, that this is a cause of the ever-increasing divorce rate in this country). Maybe it's because I'm no "hottie" myself, but regardless, I feel strongly that way.

I know that an attractive girl or woman is a privilege to behold, but inner beauty accentuates the outward appearance all the same. I find many girls I know to be more attractive than do most of my male peers, because a good personality makes the exterior even more pleasant. Conversely, there are girls who my male peers find "hot" that I find generally repulsive because of an awful demeanour. I do not join in sexist banter whenever girls help themselves to ice cream in the Dining Hall. The ideal female figure in the eyes of the boorish male is very difficult to attain, and impossible to maintain, except at a potentially grave price. Hence the rise in teenage female bulimia and anorexia.


(Finally) I HAVE UNUSUAL INTERESTS AND MANNERISMS: I am ever trying to convince others to embrace their peers' differences. This is not solely for my purposes, because I know many like me who too are relatively unknown to the general population because they look, speak, act, or (most commonly) think a differently.

As I write this, I am listening to "Milestones," a famous jazz tune penned and performed by the great Miles Davis. "Milestones" was first performed over a half-century ago. I am unable to see the intellectual value in virtually all rap music. The same goes for modern Pop music. I am much more interested by Bob Dylan and Neil Young than by 50 Cent and Green Day. I like classical music; my favorite composers are Gustav Holst and George Gershwin. I also like folk music; specifically the efforts of the group Silly Wizard, the solo songs of its lead singer Andy Stewart, and Jez Lowe and the Bad Pennies, among others.

I walk funny. That's pretty self-explanatory.

I like words, so I sometimes use ones that may be obscure of have esoteric meanings. I hope that if you have encountered any such words up to this point that you'll take a moment to look them up. That's how I learned them.

I am dependent upon my laptop for taking notes and writing essays on tests. The reason is that I have always had a fundamental fine motor-skills deficiency. It causes my hand to become sore and tired after a relatively short time writing. My handwriting is atrocious. I can't tie my shoes with the skill and agility of 99% of people my age, and perhaps people of 10 years of age. I'd ecstatically trade my extra-time and computer accomodation on tests for the ability to do these things the way others can, but that's impossible. Another difference.
~~
In writing all this, I am not fishing for pity. There are too many people in roughly the same position as I. The point of this hour's writing was to try to explore some things that I just don't understand. If you have read all the way to this point, I would like to thank you most sincerely for bearing with me. You could have done whatever you usually do at this hour (if it does not usually entail reading the ramblings of frustrated souls), but you chose to listen to what I have to say. I appreciate it. If you have a comment or would like to challenge one or more of my points, I'd like for you to send me an IM. My screen name is timgolf2002.

Thanks.