Traveled Traveler

Journalistic Perks: Kagan Hearings and Russian Spies

2010-07-03T14:48:00.000-07:00

This summer, I'm interning with the online news publication Main Justice (www.mainjustice.com), which focuses on the Department of Justice and federal courts. The outfit is small, but I'm learning there are a lot of perks to a small newsroom in the big city. While you don't get some of the more traditional corporate perks — free coffee in the office, for instance — I'm getting unparalleled experience and a chance to see really amazing things in Washington.

Case in point: This week I reported on the confirmation hearings for Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan. It was amazing to be in the center of such a consequential story. The photo below shows me at the press table in the back of the hearing room, taken by a coworker:

Covering the hearings themselves turned out to be brutal; I spent nearly the whole time glued to my computer screen, writing frantically in order to keep our live blogging updated. My coworker and I traded off duties: one listening/note-taking and the other writing quick posts for the website, the vice versa. Ensuring you correctly quote senators while trying to write fast racks the nerves. Luckily, I had recording software in my laptop that made it fairly simple to go back and double check a quote.

I also saw three potential Russian spies this week in a courtroom in Alexandria. Not much happened — it was a quick detention hearing to set bail and even that didn't happen because the attorneys were granted a continuance from the judge based on "new information from the government" — but it was just cool to see.

I'm racking up serious social cred over Facebook and through small talk. Not many people can answer with Russian spies and Supreme Court justices to the question of what you did today. Washington is definitely the best place to be a journalist.

Undocumented Students and the DREAM Act: signatures included

2010-05-10T23:34:00.000-07:00

Just for good measure, I uploaded my honors thesis on undocumented students to Scribd. Most of it will be the same text found on www.undocstudents.com, sans cool Flash navigation. However, there are portions that I left out of the website, including a section on recommended changes to the Act (that's for you to look at in particular, Dad) as well as my spiffy, signed signature page!

Undocumented Students and the DREAM Act

I feel like the real theme of my thesis experience is: eat your heart out academic journals; I can self-publish on the Internet.

Undocumented Students and the DREAM Act

2010-04-23T22:05:00.000-07:00

My thesis is finally up! http://undocstudents.com/index.html

It's been a long time coming, and I'm proud of the result. Unfortunately, my project went online approximately 7 hours after Gov. Jan Brewer signed SB 1070 into law, the toughest enforcement law against undocumented immigrants ever seen.

It's hard to accept—that the Legislature of our state could stoop so low. In the face of rampant opposition, clear analysis labeling the bill unconstitutional, and a rebuke from the president, the bill will become law.

There are so many facets to the wrongness of today's situation—a Legislature unconcerned with constitutionality, the very apogee of their duty; ignorance of the role undocumented immigrants play in Arizona; unprincipled political pandering; the unabashed hypocrisy of expanding and diverting resources while standing on a platform of conservatism.

The list could go on.

I'm frightened. The law will make the students I've worked with, and become close to, criminals. Their faces display prominently in the project, the cause of its impact but a liability all the same. I'm not sure I have their courage, the courage to continue fighting in the open against such irrational hate.

I can only hope this openness signifies a watershed for the immigration debate. Against such extremist policies, perhaps others will finally be stirred to action. Let's all hope. Let's all dream. Let's all wake up to a sane world, not the world I witnessed today—a world gone mad.

My thesis on undocumented students

2010-04-19T23:13:00.001-07:00

I finished my honors thesis today, a "new media documentary" (pretentious way of saying documentary website) on undocumented students in Arizona. In an infelicitous turn of events, the Arizona Legislature choose today to pass the toughest enforcement law on undocumented immigrants in the country: SB 1070. Dramatic? Yes, but I just hope things don't go from bad to worse as I unveil my project.

I have a big problem with what the Legislature is doing, but I have a bigger problem with the ignorance they've displayed by pushing this bill through. Living in Arizona, you slowly become desensitized to the perfidy of our politics, but without a doubt this one goes too far.

Let's step back. I've come to realize — and I hope my project will portray — that undocumented immigrants are not a homogeneous group. They are as varied as ordinary, documented citizens in their circumstances, values and appearance. My experiences tell me the Arizona Legislature is wrong. Not only are they ignorant of these simple human truths (the reality of human pluralism), but they seem too wrapped up in their hubris and self-righteousness to consider the implications of their actions.

Just whom are we deporting? Are we correct in refusing to let these people stay in this country or are we removing the very people who can help us strengthen this state? What makes you a citizen beyond your seemingly arbitrary birth on a particular plot of land?

Those are just three questions I hope my thesis cause people to ask themselves. I don't aim to change minds. I just want to get people to question the stereotypes they've constructed for undocumented immigrants. I'll link to the project as soon as it's online, which should be in the next couple days.

Here goes nothing...

Teleconference Johannesburg & Ushahidi

2010-03-11T18:19:00.000-08:00

Being in my Digital Media Entrepreneurship class brings a lot of perks.

For one, we just got free Google G1 phones to help us explore (fool around with) the emerging possibilities of mobile devices.

Gotta turn this phone into a business.

But not all perks are gadgets. For instance, today Professor Dan Gillmor set up a Skype-powered teleconference with Ory Okolloh, a leading political activist and digital media innovator in Johannesburg, South Africa. Okolloh is responsible for Ushahidi, a web site that works with submitted text messages to display, aggregate, and map information. If you don't think that sounds cool, you haven't seen all the ways humanitarians and aid workers have utilized Ushahidi, especially in Haiti. (Also see this cool TED talk with Okolloh.)

As part of today's teleconference, I asked Okolloh to talk about Ushahidi and its future applications. I'm currently working on a digital media service that aims to do similar things with mobile phones, and it was nice to hear her talk about the same ideas my project group has also discussed.

Even better, Prof. Gillmor recorded the call so I can share it here. I sit down with my questions about 20 minutes into the video. (Who is that handsome man?!)

It pays to have professors plugged into the latest digital media.

Navajo reservation by proxy

2010-03-09T21:43:00.001-08:00

Haven't updated in a while. Blame school and my "other woman" blog.

This semester has been a flat-out rat race of online design and multimedia. In particular, my online media class has been pounding the creative pulp out of me. We're currently working on a news-y website on the Navajo Reservation.

I find design incorrigibly challenging. Maybe it's just a lack of creativity on my part. Or maybe I'm just not a very "visual person." Trying to learn design basics and acclimate to unfamiliar design software sometimes feels like the intellectual equivalent of ramming a square peg through a round hole: with enough force, it will go though, but it may not be pretty in the end. Luckily my class is heavily feedback- and revision-oriented — a much-needed chance for redemption.

But while design is challenging — and often frustrating when the grades come back — stumbling on something that just "works" can be a real rush. I'm pretty proud of this Flash timeline we made for our Navajo projects, which I'm not able to post because I can't figure out how to post Flash objects in Blogger. Here's the teaser graphic anyway.

I'll link to the actual product when we're completed.

First Friday: by day, by night

2010-02-18T12:07:00.000-08:00

A bit belated, I figured I should post a small project I finished last week for my Digital Media Entrepreneurship class — a geotagged map of the monthly First Fridays art walk in downtown Phoenix.

View First Fridays: by day, by night in a larger map

The rationale behind this assignment was to have us experiment with the new potentials of tagging, the act of labeling or categorizing content online. Dan Gillmor, one of the two professors for my course, believes online tagging could revolutionize the Internet. It has disrupted the traditional taxonomy of content organization — he calls the new system a "folksonomy" in reference to its origin through crowds of people from the bottom-up — opening up new possibilities for arranging and finding content. Geotagging represents just one unconventional form of tagging information.

First Friday has become a main-stay of journalism projects for Cronkite School students — it's a really easy subject to cover and provides fairly engaging content — so I had to come up with a slightly different angle. While going through my photo library, I found a bunch of daytime images from the downtown area that I shot when I first bought my newest camera (a Canon Rebel XSi). So, using Google Maps, I paired shots from the day with shots of the art walk to illustrate how spaces change every first Friday of the month.

Blogging for School

2010-02-02T19:51:00.000-08:00

As part of my Digital Media Entrepreneurship class this semester, I'm starting a blog on e-readers and digital publishing. Here's the link.

Composing a good blog post takes time — more time than I can sometimes spare from my day. There are too many steps and worries — developing a topic, finding sources, writing, linking, editing, tagging, organizing — but then, I guess the fact that this blog is graded should be sufficient motivation.

I'm lucky my professors were completely on-board with my topic. At least I can become an expert on something interesting. E-readers seem to hold a lot of emotions for people, especially people in the media industry. Also, I never have to worry about running low on material; the Web is absolutely percolating with news and opinions about e-readers. I'm excited to dive in.

Finding myself online

2010-01-01T11:00:00.000-08:00

Can you find me on this page? (Roosevelt Row's First Friday website.)

(Hint: Check for the profile of a handsome young man interviewing a vendor in the page banner.)It's strange to find yourself on the Web. This is far from the first time I've stumbled upon my likeness or my work, completely unaware of their existence on the tubes and circuits of others.
As a journalist for the AZ Republic and State Press, I've discovered many aggregating blogs that will copy, paste entire stories from their original source. The ones I've seen always credit me and the publication, but it's still strange to find yourself being quoted on a site you know nothing about.

The quickest way I've found to find people using your work is to set up a Google Alert. Google will search the Web for a phrase you enter — in this case, my name — and send you e-mail alerts when it encounters them. My unique name helps narrow things down and avoid getting too many junk reports. Of course, this doesn't work for photos. The Roosevelt Row catch was simply good luck.

All the secrets on privacy law...

2009-12-10T16:20:00.000-08:00

Last week, I completed my first law school class as an undergraduate. Through a program called "Project Excellence" (Could they have picked a more pretentious title?), the Barrett college allows undergrads to take classes in the Sandra Day O'Connor College of Law. My class focused on information privacy law, which I thought would be an acceptable tie-in for a journalism major as well as an interesting topic to get some experience in an actual law school class. Right now during finals week, I'm just glad to be done.

I really did enjoy the class, taught by Dr. "Sandy" Askland, who proved extremely helpful for the three of us undergrads struggling up the learning curve. The class' small size (a 20-person seminar) also helped in comprehending the material, typically presented to 2L or 3L (second- or third-year) students. However, with certainty, I can say I've never had so much reading for a class before. It was a struggle to acclimate to law lingo and the work load expected of veteran law students, while not actually a law student myself.

It was also a bit intimidating to be among older, advanced students. The first day, one sitting next to me asked what year I was — "You a 2L or a 3L?" — to which I responded, "Oh, no. I'm an undergrad." The student turned to his friend and said, loudly, "Dude! This kid is an undergrad!" A true statement, though a bit embarrassing to have announced to the entire class. My dad loves that story.

So, all-in-all, it was lot of work. BUT, I did feel pretty spiffy walking around with my giant, leather-bound law book.

Below is my final paper on Internet anonymity. Of course, I'm still not sure of the result from an academic perspective (final grads haven't been posted yet) but I feel pretty good about it — my first ever law school paper.

Privacy of Identity and Association Online

Protesters, journalists and Sheriff Arpaio

2009-12-01T08:44:00.000-08:00

Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio faced questions from a panel of professor/reporters last night at the Cronkite School in a Meet-The-Press-style interview session, but the event was cut short by Queen-inspired protesters, just as Arpaio reached the topic of immigration enforcement.

Full disclosure: I am a Cronkite School student currently working on a thesis project about undocumented students and immigration law. That's the main reason I decided to attend the Arpaio event Monday night. I've heard the sheriff talk many times before while interning as a reporter for the Arizona Republic. I even covered a pro-Arpaio rally starring the man himself. I feel pretty confident in knowing the type of answers he gives and the rationale behind his actions. (see: "I'm just enforcing the law.") However, I needed more footage for my project, and figured the evening would be interesting — Arpaio speaking in my own living room, as it were.

I wasn't disappointed.

In a room filled with approximately 200 people (mostly ASU students), tensions were high as Arpaio spoke. The panel focused most on issues concerning First Amendment rights and public records requests for information, as well as the alleged intimidation of reporters by the Sheriff's Office. Arpaio's answers were anything but forthright. In most cases, he redirected and often just responded by whining about the media. (It brought a sharp in my mind between the allowances journalists give interviews in comparison to, say, a lawyer questioning a witness. Arpaio would make a terrible, non-responsive witness.) I could tell the reporters attempting to question him were getting frustrated. Rick Rodriguez, one of the panel members, spent a good ten minutes trying to get a straight answer regarding threats made to reporters before ultimately moving on.

That's not to say the panel's questions weren't effective. Many times, Arpaio seemed visibly uncomfortable. Further, the audience of skeptical, young students was anything but supportive of the sheriff's coy remarks.

Singing broke out as the questions turned to immigration enforcement, about 15 minutes before the event's end. Standing on the third-level above the forum, I could see the group of protesters. They were obviously students (police officers were only admitting ASU students into the building due to crowd concerns), and I believe they were not journalism students because I didn't recognize any of them. To the tune of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody," the protesters continued to sing for upward of five minutes, enduring shouts for quiet from the surrounding crowd. Arpaio left the stage without a word.

I know immigration is a heated topic; I'm doing my undergrad/graduate thesis on undocumented students. There's no doubt that it is a compelling issue, one of high drama and divisive opinion. However, I wish the protesters had found a better way — say, silently hanging signs. Ultimately, what the singers disrupted was not an event supporting the sheriff but a panel of reports asking very critical questions of him — a rare opportunity for accountability. I see nothing wrong with their convictions, but this act was undecided misdirected.

I doubt the protesters understood their actions' consequence: they rescued Sheriff Arpaio from the hot seat. Young people seem to favor rash action and a moment of consideration might have caused them to at least delay their display.

Regardless, I doubt Arpaio will return to the Cronkite School's "Must See Mondays" soon.

Here's a link to Cronkite School writer-in-residence Terry Greene's account of the event. Greene is currently writing a book on immigration and is one of my thesis directors.

Finding a future business model

2009-11-29T21:05:00.000-08:00

I just finished a paper on the future business model of journalism. My first reflection? Finding new sources of money is hard work.

It's difficult to distill all the industry's problems into a coherent blog post. So, I'm going to put one of the lessons we learned in class this semester to good use and link to what I'm just too lazy to explain myself.

In the old, proverbial nutshell, journalism is struggling because the Internet has disrupted the old mass-advertising business model. Journalists never sold their content; they sold their readers — to advertisers. In fact, subscribers to the daily newspaper pay a pittance of the costs that go into producing the paper. The actual cost is heavily subsidized by ad revenue. Accordingly, most people believe pay-walls and subscription content simply won't work as a viable business model. Variations on the pay-wall model could provide some options, but this still lies well within the realm of traditionalist thinking. Some politicians have proposed government plans to save journalists, but most journalists despise the idea of being beholden to the government and doubt public support would allow such a plan to proceed.

But, journalists being journalists, there is an abundance of ideas to reshape the industry. Most seem to be evolved content models, focusing on new ways to gathering and producing news that would add inherent value to the product, and thus, attract more readers and hopefully make it worth forking over some money. Others have approached new revenue models such as low- and non-profits ventures. Still others advocate enhanced services for advertisers to reclaim some of the lost ad revenue.

Frankly, it's not surprising that journalists would write about and post their ideas for the future of journalism — it's what we do. It really opens up the different thought processes to a level of transparency I doubt many other industries experience. I don't doubt, however, that these blogs contain the seeds of journalism's future.

Regardless, having combed the blogs of countless journalists all searching for an answer, it seems a shame not to add my voice as well. Below, I've posted the paper submitted to my graduate business-of-journalism class. I'll admit, much of the paper is set up and explanation (per the professor's request), but I believe in my conclusion. Through synthesizing what many of the more radical voices are saying, I believe journalism must evolve in order to stay relevant on the Internet, and the best way to do this is to offer a unique information service — not too great a stretch for journalists, but enough to jostle the entrenched, corporate side.

Reimagining Journalism and the ‘Service’ Media Business Model

Skyping with Jeff Jarvis

2009-10-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

Earlier today, my Cronkite School business-of-media class had a Skype-enabled Q&A conversation with CUNY professor and author Jeff Jarvis. Talk about practice what you preach.

Jarvis has been a consistent resource for my media professor, Tim McGuire. If Jarvis could get a telepathic 'hit' for ever time the words "Jarvis says..." authoritatively passed my professor's lips, I'm sure he would absolutely love our class by now. Jarvis says that companies in the age of the Internet must open up. Jarvis says proprietary standards are obsolete. Jarvis says media companies must create platforms for communities. That's not to say my professor doesn't have his own opinions about what "Jarvis says," but suffice it to say, he has a substantial impact on class discussion.

Today, however, the class took a step toward making what "Jarvis says" a reality. Using a camera-enabled mac and the free Internet-video-chatting program Skype, a journalism class in Phoenix, Arizona, was effectively taught by a journalism professor in New York City. I can think of no better example of a "flat world," as Thomas Friedman calls it.

Traditionally, universities have flouted the quality of their professors to attract students. Well look out, because our experience today seems to indicate students and professors no longer need universities to bring them together. As seems to be the ruling aphorism of our generation: the Internet make it possible.

the individualist

2009-09-25T20:25:00.000-07:00

For my grad communications class I've been reading The World Is Flat by Thomas Friedman, and while I'm reluctant to jump on the number-one-best-selling bandwagon — either from lingering post-pubescent nonconformism or my own, individual brand of neurosis (did you catch the irony?) — I have to admit its insight.

The crux, so far as I can discern about half way through, is that technological changes and standardization have broken down the "practical constraints" that once held people back from engaging in more efficient practices, i.e. collaboration, outsourcing, content production, etc. More importantly from my perspective, it provides a pretty comprehensive explanation of how the world is changing re: empowering individuals.

Friedman breaks it down like this: The human world has gone through stages in which various entities maintain control. So far as modern history is concerned, up until about the 1800s, countries held the reigns. After, industrialization gave corporations the power, which grew quite powerful thanks to burgeoning globalization. According to Friedman, the turn of the century represents the end of the corporate epoch and the beginning of individual empowerment, in which individuals have control and leverage over globalization, production tools, and vast resources. As an individual myself, this sounds pretty good to me.

And it answers the question journalists have been asking since 2000 rolled around: Where did all these citizen journalists come from? Well, they came from the advent of the PC, standardized word processing software, and a series of fiber optic wires promulgated during the dot-com boom. QED.

I'm sure Friedman would appreciate the illustrative elements of my even posting this. It shows how publishing has become decentralized, no longer relying on journalistic institutions or "the media" for its distribution. None of this is particularly tragic for me in light of my communications career choice; it simply means I must approach it from a different angle. Soon, no doubt, no one will need the media. That doesn't mean it will disappear. It does, however, mean the media will lose the substantial power its enjoyed as the only distributor of content. In my future, I see no free lunches on the corporate tab. But then, as a free-minded, decentralized individual, maybe I should never have wanted them anyway.

a time for impracticality

2009-08-27T09:59:00.000-07:00

After almost two years of constant career-priming, it's about time for a semester off.

School started again, and despite my seemingly crazy ambitions, I'm glad to be taking some time off from my journalism studies: I'm taking mostly philosophy and law classes this semester. The first week has been a rough transition. My background in communications doesn't translate well to the more abstract thought of the great philosophers, and I find myself out-paced by all the poli sci and philosophy majors that I usually loath (but that's another issue entirely).

It's a time to rethink my priorities and take a breather from the career-treadmill I've been running. I love studying law and philosophy because, so far as I can see, at no other point in my life will I have time and support required to think about such vast and far-reaching ideas. The depth of thought and discussion I can reach in class is the antithesis to my "more practical" internships and skill-studies. Perhaps this semester will bring me back from the brink, instilling a good balance in my education. I can only hope.

dying industries

2009-08-11T13:10:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend and I are both entering into "dying industries," or so she tells me. (This has the potential to become a great contest, re: my industry will last longer than yours.)

Really, they are the same industry split into specialties, with discrete distinctions that, beyond targeted experience and expertise, could easily be seen as singular. We both love — and study — writing and the print industry: me journalism, her publishing/editing. Often times I feel more pragmatic about the industry's difficulties. I'm trying to make myself flexible, dedicated and as open as possible to change. My girlfriend usually expresses her hatred for publishing's grim-reapers — Google Books, Amazon, and the Kindle — while bemoaning the trend away from ornately designed book covers and to generic omni-devices (though she loves her iPhone). But she's doing things to diversify as well — any novelty turned to advantage once school ends.

Yet, I don't feel like I'm entering a dying industry. The same doom-preaching chorus relaying the trials of the industry today (my j-school professors at ASU) now sits in a completely new university building, filled with the latest technology and creative minds. If there was ever a place to innovate and save the bottom line, it would be there. And while I've seen countless "goodbye-and-good-luck" e-mails at work, their authors usually seem poised to carry on elsewhere. So many mind-blowing projects are emerging from web designers, journalists and innovators, why has so much fear promulgated? The fear comes from economic uncertainty. Corporations and organizations have lost their Earth-turning profits, and thus, the industry is dying.

But what is an "industry," and why am I entering it in the first place? I'm not discounting the need for profits, but pushing past monetary motivations to the real spirit of why we do what we do — love for what we do — breeds a lot of optimism in me. If "industry" requires profits, perhaps I don't need it. I've no stock holders to appease, no board to satisfy. Halfway through college and embroiled in your-future discussions, concepts like "the industry" seem an unnecessary middleman to my main concern: me and doing what I love. Instead of singing odes to a dying industry, we should be consciously carving out our own space in, not an industry, but a living, however and with whomever we can.

summer could have been more restful

2009-08-06T11:20:00.000-07:00

What can you expect from a summer internship? After working for the past nine weeks, I'd say a either lot or a little, depending on how you look at it.

For me, it's been a tedious tenure at Washington Post Digital — editing photos, writing photo captions, and attempting construct massive databases that, frankly, I doubt will be implemented. In short, the work wasn't too rewarding. And all for no pay; my validation is a inconspicuous byline that even I overlook most of the time. Such is the life of an intern, and after a particularly trying day, after a particularly trying week, it's easy to feel taken advantage of.

On the other hand, maybe things aren't that bad. After all, internships are always temporary, and when I think back on how I could have spent my summer, to live and work in Washington D.C. definitely trumps the alternatives. I can't say I've learned much from a technical or journalistic outlook; the things I've picked up fall more under the "real-world-experience" category, re: full-time job, managing bosses, taking care of myself (i.e. not partying until 3 a.m. the night before work ... again ... ). The program I took here, The Washington Center, provided a lot of cool events and experiences, so I don't regret my time here. Things have just been too hectic.

What I find most frustrating in every internship has nothing to do with the internship itself, but rather the pairing of a work and school schedule. The two never overlap cohesively, and neither boss nor professor seems to understand (or care) I have more going on with my life. Especially while I'm sitting at work, I'm always thinking of school work that needs doing, and vice versa. Its a classic scenario of work during the day, school at night and sleep in between — though never enough.

If this is supposed to build character and ambition, I expect to be supernaturally motivated and interesting when I graduate. Right now, I'm just tired.

damn, forgot the bribes

2009-07-24T10:59:00.001-07:00

-------------
Five things you need to know about lobbying a senator:

1) Get the aides' names: The person scheduling your meeting — assuming it's not you — probably won't get the names. Best to just wing it and hope the phone-line-strangled receptionist knows what's going on.

2) Dress like a professional: Things may not always be "fashionable" on Capitol Hill, but that doesn't mean people don't appreciate some class. Pull out the three-piece suit for the Atticus-Finch look.

3) Bring a partner (preferably one who knows way more than you do): Lobbying is like making a presentation to a group of people who already know the speech. If those spitfire info classes didn't prepare you for the arena, shut up and let your partner fill in the gaps.

4) Bring business cards: What the heck are those things for, since you keep forgetting them at home!

5) Know your politics: Depending on what you're advocating, people may not be receptive. Usually, however, they will be cordial ... to constituents.

-------------

After three sessions of background education and training, I went with a partner to lobby Sen. Jon Kyl, R-Ariz, on Monday.

Some background: For my "civic engagement project" here in Washington, I joined a group called Americans for Israel and Palestine, which while not affiliated with The Washington Center, recruit heavily from its ranks. I thought it would be a cool and easy way to take care of the project. In the process, I learned a ton about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and ate free Middle-Eastern food at meetings.

The Capitol Hill meeting was definitely a cool experience — getting to see the Hart Senate Office Building, the senator's offices, the hardwood-filled, cabinet-lined offices with leather-upholstered seats. And I feel like I understand the workings of Washington much better.

On my part, it wasn't a stellar performance, but I had a very well-informed partner, whom I give credit for anything of depth during our presentation. I focused on the big — and, of course, less complicated — issues. Still, it feels good to have done something of substance, pressing the flesh and taking the names.

"and that's the way it is." — Walter Cronkite

2009-07-17T20:27:00.000-07:00

Rest in peace Walter Cronkite, pioneer of television journalism, most trusted man in America, namesake of my j-school. Not many will argue you did more for American journalism than any figure in history, but don't worry; we'll pick up the torch you lit.

longest day off ever

2009-07-03T07:48:00.000-07:00

Washington continuously amazes me with it's never ending list of things to do:

yesterday:

The Pentagon
Pentagon City
National Gallery of Art
Union Station
Dopunt Cirlce
Adams Morgan

It was a long day...

I took off because my academic programing scheduled a tour of The Pentagon. While the ceremonial guard that escorted us through the building were quite impressive looking, the tour didn't actually reveal much of the building. We mainly saw hallways and corridors. We did get to see the inner courtyard, which they claim could fit the entire Capitol Building without touching on either end. Many of these comparisons to other buildings were made: more floor space than the Empire State, longer than the Empire State, more impressive design (apparently it was built without using any steel).

Then, not to waste my extra day off, I decided to tackle the National Gallery of Art, which while being right on the National Mall by the Capitol, is not part of the Smithsonian.

I wandered a few galleries by myself and eventually joined a tour.Particularly in gigantic art galleries (and this one was huge!) I really appreciate the tour guide. Having never taken art history, I wrestle with chronology and terms in art museums all the time. The tour was fantastic, taking the group through Pre-Renaissance, Renaissance, Humanist, Baroque, Impressionist, to Post-Impressionist and the beginning of the 20th century. Most impressive was the only Da Vinci on permanent display in America.
It's important to note, however, that in three hours, I didn't even get through the first floor. I have yet to reach the second floor and an entire second building devoted to 20th-century art and beyond to modern. But all musuems in the area close a 5pm — the reason I never go after work. So I wandered the city a bit, eventually ending up at Union Station.

Later that night, I followed a group of interns to Dupont Circle and into the Adams Morgan district, which holds all the nightlife a college fraternity could ever dream of.

a museum for everything, including me

2009-06-22T06:12:00.001-07:00

World-class museums are certainly one reason to live in D.C. I have a lot to still visit, but between the Smithsonian and the Newseum, which I spent five hours in on Saturday, I'm beginning to think I could spend every day wondering exhibits and never get tired.
The Newseum was the first not-free museum I've seen. (I still got in for free though because our program adviser bought tickets.) It was amazing. Taking into account that I work as a journalist— and the Newseum is basically a giant, love-memorial to journalism — I still believe it's an amazing collection. For history buffs, the museum feels like a playground. One giant hall features original newspapers dating back from the 1400s, chronicling all of the most significant events — think of the cliche newspaper-spinning transition used in old movies (dodidodidodido "WAR DECLARED"-type scenario).

There was also an extremely poignant 9/11 exhibit, telling the tail of how reporters covered the event and the physical/emotional challenges they overcame. It was heart-ripping.
Both live at the museum and on their website, the Newseum also collects the front page from newspapers worldwide, providing a great comparison tool on how news is covered in different areas and cultures.
Of course, everything also held an air of the nostalgic, hinting at the looming demise of newspapers. It's so frustrating to hear people debate the pros and cons of newspapers folding, always lamenting the lack of "pure, investigative journalism," yet continuing to promote fluffy, entertainment news. The industry has developed an unsettling double standard: seek truth and justice, but only so long as readers tune in, call in or click on it. When that fails, things get ugly.

I don't care if newspapers fail so long as the idea of good journalism survives — the attention to quality and depth not yet seen in any other medium. That's what makes working in a newsroom so exhilarating — watching coworkers debate issues and rewrite articles late into the night to ensure correctness and completeness. There's a sense of civil service, a sense that we're providing people with something important: the COMPLETE truth. And while no legitimate news organization lies, the sift in focus from objective importance to rating-controlled content — particularly when the audience seems to place little value on objective news — casts a lot of doubt on that mission.

I hate to cast generalities; some news operations — my favorite of which is NPR — do a great job. But when you sift through the information, you realize that even NPR gets most of it's deepest stories from the paper. Listen to any of their news shows for a few minutes and you're sure to hear "according to the New York Times..." or "The Washington Post reports..." No other medium to date has the staff or resources to do the job right, and if we loose that, I want no part of where journalism is headed.
Some say journalism is the only noble profession, where truth and quality are valued above all else. I doubt that has ever been true — from yellow journalism to the muckrakers, corporate interest has always held the reigns. But, at least for the individual writers and editors making bottom-level salary, it's the illusion of that noble cause that keeps late and sane.

I think that's why my Newseum trip was so great: the overpowering, sometimes cheesy, feeling of journalistic duty.

faces of the fallen

2009-06-16T16:49:00.001-07:00

I spent a lot of my day working on The Washington Post's Faces of the Fallen project, which tries to gather photos and a short bio for every American soldier killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.

It makes for morbid work, but at the same time, it feels very significant.

As I edited the head shots, I couldn't stop imagining how the soldier's family and friends would react. Would they be proud or angered by the project? Would they pull up the site alone or with others — share grief or experience it solely for themselves? It's a mind-boggling thing to contemplate.

It also put pressure on me as I searched for and edited photos. Each face — the enduring image of a loved one, of a father/mother, of a friend — wouldn't be a botched job on my part. I probably added 20 to 25 people to the list today (I lost count). It certainly puts a human face to the war.

an intern is an intern

2009-06-11T16:40:00.000-07:00

I just finished my second day with The Washington Post. It's a lot of getting accustomed to new systems, content management and coworkers. But, I got my first pseudo-byline today! (click on the credits button in the lower-left side; yeah text editor!)

Working at The Post has already been a lot different from The Arizona Republic, my last internship. The general newsroom attitude remains the same — relaxed, friendly but fast-paced and demanding — but The Post feels much bigger and a bit less personal. I can tell it's going to be a battle to stand out and get the opportunities I want from this internship, but I'm willing to sacrifice (I'm already sacrificing my summer at a no-pay internship). What it comes down to is the recognition that, while the name looks impressive on a resume, The Post will prove a more challenging place to find work. And as an intern, I WANT to work — work enough to get noticed, work enough to accomplish something, work enough to further my skills.

I'm optimistic, and with 10 weeks to prove myself, I feel like I have time. It's just going to be a whole lot of paper-pushing.

life in the capitol

2009-06-09T19:28:00.000-07:00

After being in New York City, living in DC is a bit like moving your bed from the closet to the backyard — everything is wider and luxuriously spread out. I love my apartment and the city, while not quite the same charm as New York, still feels immensely impressive.
I've been incredibly busy getting oriented, learning the overwhelming amount of projects I must complete this summer — at The Washington Center — and getting ready to start at The Post tomorrow. All the remaining time has been sight seeing. I've already seen most of the national monuments at night and toured two Smithsonian museums — the National Museum of Natural History and the National Museum of the American Indian.
I just did the Native American Museum today, and it was incredible. Not only was the history and story telling fascinating, but in particular, an art exhibit by the controversial Indian artist Fritz Scholder blew me away. It was great to learn about his work, mostly done in my home state, Arizona. I had no knowledge of his art or the steps he took to advance Native American culture.
Another definite highlight was the all-authentic, Native American food hall. It was delicious. My girlfriend practically demanded we eat there, and while not culinarily complex, the food was very flavorful. It is segregated according to its region of origin, and many of the ingredients are grown on-site using traditional native farming techniques.

Like I mentioned, tomorrow I start interning with The Washington Post. I expect it will be a lot of training and getting oriented — again — but most first days are.

last night in the city

2009-06-05T16:27:00.000-07:00

I'm headed for DC tomorrow.

It's been an awesome three-week vacation in New York City. My girlfriend and I hit the Guggenheim, Metropolitan, and Whitney museums; I spent SO much money on SO much ridiculously good food; and I got to feel like a city native for a while.

A definite highlight: eating the most phenomenal pizza at Keste in the West Village. Their Pizza Del Re — mozzarella, mushroom, prosciutto, and sweet, glistening truffle oil — was amazing.

I'm pretty psyched to start my internship at The Washington Post on the 10th. It will take some getting back into the saddle. It's going to be a busy — hopefully rewarding — summer.

every day, sun

2009-05-18T05:12:00.000-07:00

On the way to New York City to see my girlfriend before working for the summer in Washington, DC. But right now I can't even think about work; I'm just excited to have three weeks off.

I'm actually at the airport now, way to early in the morning, watching the sun rise over Phoenix. It would be a beautiful—albeit hot—day, but they say you need some cloudy days to appreciated the sunny ones. In a very literal sense, I hope I get some cloudy days this summer.

court reporting, unfettered perspective

2009-05-15T17:19:00.000-07:00

Just got back from covering a case at the Maricopa County Superior Court.

It's great to hang out in the courthouse as a reporter. The whole building has a sense of importance about it -- everything pomp and circumstance. I also find the proceedings fascinating. All the ritual, grandeur, and importance associated with law and justice in our society entices my longing for a meaningful career and even a well-earned sense of self-importance.

However, as a court reporter, you get your own sense of importance. A ghost in the midst of those affected, I can observe everything while withholding my own judgments -- there is enough judgment already. I feel a voyeuristic euphoria, jotting notes as the lives of those around me alter or come crashing down. This is the battlefield where academic pursuits of justice and ethics meet the concrete reality of human lives -- and myself, the ethereal observer floating above it all.

Or is that too poetic? It would be great to cover courts as a beat reporter. Yet, the environment also appears too formal, too planned, too...disingenuous. The high drama of the court contrasts with its lack of potential for description or inspiration. And in the courtroom, everyone has an agenda. It's hard to distinguish remorseful tears from calculated appeals for lenience -- one action, two very opposite interpretations.

Awash in interpretation, journalistic values become the confident armor of the reporter. The safety of facts lifts me above doubt, and the disaffection of my mission removes me from the emotional game. No matter the verdict, story in hand, I win.

Obama's commencement speech, -11 hours

2009-05-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

So, I got assigned to do some reporting around Arizona State University's Sun Devil Stadium for The Arizona Republic. Too bad it was almost eleven hours before President Obama spoke.

I'm pretty pleased with my job, though. I spent about three hours wondering the stadium and campus, talking to anyone who looked remotely interesting, which turned into quite a few people. I would then call in to the newsroom with the gathered material and quotes. Not to be too self-congratulatory, but I feel it was a bit of an accomplishment to milk as much story out of the pre-Obama set up as I did. AND my name held on to the byline spot for most of the day. Of course, I was eventually bumped off by the full-time, staff reporters, but it was still good to contribute. My name is still at the end.

I've gotten pretty good at interviewing -- particularly impromptu, unanticipated interviews. The confidence and ability to walk up to someone on the street and politely interrogate them until I get the material I need has really boosted my reporting. Even my editor commented, "There was nothing going on, but Channing turned it into something."

I'm pretty satisfied with that one.

finals week -> fabrication week

2009-05-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

As predicted, finals have been relatively easy. Yet, I still find myself completely busy—how does this happen?

Websites. That's how this happens. I've been spending great amounts of time designing my two websites from scratch for my Online Media class, which apparently takes TONS of time. It would also help if my design ideas were more straightforward and easy, but these are the tribulations of aesthetic perfectionists.

I'm rather impressed by how our group site is developing—which is good, considering it's due Tuesday. I'll link to it as soon as it's complete and online.I also updated my personal site. I only tweaked it a bit, but it's a bit better looking and more functional now. I think the next step is buying a more SEO friendly domain name, but who wants to fork over 4 bucks a year plus hosting, right?

last of the opinions!

2009-05-09T21:07:00.000-07:00

I need to quickly link to my last column of the semester!

This one is based of a real news story I covered for The Arizona Republic. Since about 80% of the time I talk about journalism with my friends the conversation turns to how bias the media is, I thought it would be interesting to address the issue from a candid, experience-style narrative.

Being a columnist and journalist provides a great opportunity for public—and published—reflection on stories that most news organizations try zealously to stomp out. I even thought it might be risky to voice my opinions after covering the story, so I took care to make the column as balanced too. The point really isn't my opinion anyway (confusing, right?), it's the lets-talk-about-it approach to our beliefs, and how we confront adversity. Ultimately, it's just about setting it all aside and getting the job done.

live on the Web

2009-05-06T19:46:00.001-07:00

My personal website went online yesterday!

I've been working on it for a while and think it turned out pretty nicely, considering it's the first time I've ever worked on web-page design. The learning curve wasn't that bad; it just took a lot of time to assemble all the pieces. It also helped that my roommate is a computer wizard, able to swiftly conjure answers to all my problems.

Now I'm just working on my project website, which is a collaboration between myself and three other journalists from the Cronkite School. It's coming together nicely, but I just couldn't muster the will to work on it today—too much web design lately. Luckily, it's not due until next week, so we have plenty of time. It's pretty incredibly what you can create with the right software and an eye for creativity. Our site may be entered into some journalism contests, so we're giving it our all.

when you give a journalist design tools...

2009-05-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

As part of my Online Media class for school, I've been designing websites from scratch and learning about web design. The whole thing is way more interesting than I thought -- and I thought it would be interesting.

I'm still not done, of course. But soon I should have a website promoting me as a professional journalist and a site I collaborated on with three other classmates to present a journalistic story/issue. It's the way of the future: cyber-self-publication, and I couldn't be more excited about it. I have uncompromising control over my content, from story to presentation. Yes, it's labor intensive, but the end product is completely mine -- exactly what I want it to be.

It's almost detrimental to my mental focus. I've spent hours tweaking simple aesthetics. Just when I think I've come to a breaking point, I notice something that should be fixed or improved upon. It's incredibly addictive, and I'm probably spending too much time on it. Luckily, I'm only marginally concerned about finals this semester or this could have been a problem.

It's been a lot of fun designing the website. It's thrilling in an unexpected way. Using Photoshop and Dreamweaver simplifies all the details and makes it way too easy to create a professional looking website. It has been a real eye-opener to the potential the web provides journalists, and a convincing reason not to lose hope in the face of crumbling media giants.

I will definitely be posting/linking to my site once it's complete.

quit school and start a band, I should

2009-04-28T09:06:00.000-07:00

quick column catch up: this week's and last week's.

Finals are here, which means less time to post. BUT I did make time to see two really awesome concerts last weekend: The Flaming Lips and Okkervil River. Both were a blast, and I'm extremely please at how my photos turned out—considering I was using my small, digital camera that usually can't handle dark concert situations. Luckily, both concerts were fairly well lit, particularly The Flaming Lips, which was so bright I should have worn sunscreen.

...and take a nap

2009-04-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

The park next to ASU's downtown campus is almost done—set to open on Thursday. The city is calling it the "Downtown Civic Space Park"— a very utilitarian name for a really nice looking space. I can't wait to chill out between classes in the grass under the new trees, or even beneath this thing:
Janet Echelman’s "Her Secret is Patience" There's also a live web cam to chronicle the construction.

I'm also interested to see what will be in the new art gallery (you can see the side of it on the photo's left) they refurbished in the middle of the park. We'll see.

Piestewa to some; Squaw to others

2009-04-12T23:55:00.000-07:00

A bunch of us went hiking Saturday at Piestewa—formerly known as Squaw—Peak. This means, after living in the Valley for 20+ years, I have finally hiked the two "quintessential" mountains. I can finally be a true Phoenician!

We decided to hike on a stormy day and got caught in a downpour on the way down the mountain. It was a bit chilly, but refreshing during the hike—definitely not something you experience every day in Phoenix.

clouds and clouds of time-wasting

2009-04-10T07:42:00.001-07:00

Have you heard of Wordle?

Wordle, a free "word-cloud" mapping service, is the essential equivalent, and more aesthetically pleasing, answer to coding literature. Simply copy, paste any text into the software and it will visually map words into a cloud, determining the size of each word based on the frequency it appears in an article.

Here's a map of my latest opinion article to appear in "The State Press":

It's a great way to see where biases lie or perhaps which words a writer relies on as a crutch. I've also noticed that words closely related to, yet not quite the topic of a paper, seem to appear frequently as the biggest, at least in what I've seen. I sense this will become an epic time-waster.

pesto is the new black

2009-04-07T21:49:00.000-07:00

Today, I had lunch for the first time at Café Biblioteca, a small but higher-fare-food cafe tucked in the corner of ASU's Hayden Library in Tempe. My experience left me wondering, why haven't I eaten here for every lunch of my entire life?

It's one of the closest places I've found that serves illy coffee, and there are tons of vegetarian options, from which I chose the veggie-pesto pizza. It was amazing—to the point of blogging about it. The other reason for blogging? Café Biblioteca isn't on Yelp. That's right; this is uncharted territory baby. (Maybe that's because lame pseudo-restaurant bloggers like me can't afford to go anywhere that doesn't accept college meal plans... ah well)

among the internet-savvy + column

2009-04-07T16:57:00.000-07:00

Tuesday is column day.

This one only turned out so-so from my perspective. I was rushing because I had a lot more work over the weekend (including a 25-page research paper) plus a lack of inspiration. It's not bad, just not the caliber I could/should shoot for.

Also, I finally learned some basic html in my Online Media class today. Beware Internet world; I am html-literate!

For an "internet-savvy" generation, it seems surprising how few young people understand the Internet — myself included until recently. I'm happy to be among the savvy now, though.

No doubt, cyber-publishing will soon dominate our culture as newspapers, books, and physical print atrophy. It's ridiculous to say that print will disappear completely. Books, periodicals and newspapers will continue to exist, but perhaps to a lesser extent. So many people, my young friends among them, continue to tell me "there's just something about having the physical copy," and I couldn't agree more.

That said, don't become too elitist to embrace the digital tide! Online publishing holds incredible potential. It's just too bad for me, and thousands of other young journalists, it doesn't hold financial potential.

"Ah," the starving artists of the world sigh...

catching up on columns

2009-03-31T08:49:00.000-07:00

The columns continue: I had another column in "The State Press" today and forgot to link to last week's column.

I'm pleased with how this week's turned out. It's based on true events, unfortunately. The moment I got back into bed after the fire alarm, ideas for comparisons started whizzing through me. So, as soon as I knew what I was going to draw the comparison to, the rest was easy.

My editor and schoolmates have also been giving me a lot of praise lately. Since the job is unpaid, that helps make it worthwhile. The sweet thing about having placated my editor is now he thinks I'm an awesome writer and gives me much more freedom. This week, he basically told me to go ahead with my idea even though the subject had been claimed by someone else. I think his exact words were, "I trust you completely." Dangerous territory...

singing with an old friend

2009-03-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

I picked up my saxophone for the first time in months today.

Wary of how awful I would sound, I dusted off the case and headed over to the music building to secured a practice room. I had forgotten how heavy a tenor is; no wonder I abandoned all fear of embarrassment and started simply practicing in my dorm room last year.

But the moment I opened the case, everything returned. My fingers felt light and dexterous; my mouth formed around the reed. It required no though; my muscle memory whipped through all 12 major scales, as if I had practiced them yesterday. I was shocked years of training those responses would remain so readily available. Minor scales proved only slightly more difficult, followed by dominate 5ths, 7ths, arpeggios, etc., musical jargon ad-nauseam.

Of course, I only remained impressed with myself as long as I stayed within the realm of the disgustingly easy. As soon as I attempted a song from my former level, my sharp decline showed itself. Also counted among the missing was my stamina. After 40 minutes, my mouth ached with discomfort and became like rubber.

But I remained happy with the aesthetic of the experience. The play-along track coming from my crappy computer speakers evoked an old gramophone, howling in concert with my sax the grit of the blues. It's true; I suck. But, as I ran through the changing scales of nostalgia, I didn't care. Playing for yourself, for simple self-gratification, holds a purer sort of reward. In this respect, that's enough for me.

it's always about 'life,' even when it's not

2009-03-20T09:04:00.000-07:00

At this time in my life, I'm interacting constantly with stories and language.

My studies, my job, my leisure -- all reading, writing, and communication. I spend so much of my time communicating that I've taken to shutting everything off while communting via light rail, simply emptying my mind and entering a zen-like state devoid of all communication, even thought -- the act of communicating with myself.

So, I find it interesting when, introspectively, I notice a peculiarity in my habits. One transition has been my interest in stories. Reporting and journalism drives so hard at finding interesting stories -- scoops that attract readers and clicks -- that I think some part of me rebels.

In my free time, I've become attracted to books and articles about more mundane, yet perceptively charming subjects. While my writing focuses on action, my reading trends toward the idiosyncrasies of unremarkable feeling and the slightly absurdist views -- authors like Jonathan Safran Foer, Milan Kundera, Tao Lin, or Dave Eggers. Mostly young and awash in waves of uncertainty, like me, they speak to uncommon, yet more genuine viewpoints on life. They provide for me a welcome counterpoint to the ridgidly factual, distinctly real focus of journalism.

Life always seems to align in dichotomies with the conscious and subconscious trying to balance the two. Like reporting, it's important to get both sides.

travel: a retrospective OR "Traveled Time-Traveler"

2009-03-19T10:06:00.000-07:00

Typical, right?

Just as I'm doing something that coincides with the title of my blog, I drop the ball. All can be fixed, however, with the use of retroactive posting! To share my experience in New York, I've decided to catalog the trip in posts dated to the day they occurred. Cheating? Maybe. Dishonest? No; I'm giving you, the reader, a heads up. Ingenious? Haha, oh—you give me too much credit.

The dates covered should be Mar. 9 through Mar. 17, so check back soon for posts on those dates. I see this as a handy way of outlining my trip for friends/family without having to repeat myself continually. (Though, in light of how great the trip was, I'm sure some discussion will be appropriate.)

weary and still working

2009-03-18T21:27:00.000-07:00

I'm back from spring-break bliss in New York City. I already miss it.

The trip was AMAZING -- the feel of the city, the wonderful food, the perfect host, the complete lack of responsibility, including posting to my blog (I feel bad, but I was having too much fun to sit down and write about it.) And I had to hit the deck running the moment I got back -- heading to class right after traveling for 8+ hours is a great way to feel like crap.

Even now, I haven't had much time to reflect. I'm too busy trying to get normal life rolling again. I'd still like to write it down, so I'll probably share when I find time.

NYC: Day 7

2009-03-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

This was it — the last day in New York. What do you do on you last day in the City? Mandi and I didn't know either, so we just stuck to what we hadn't done yet.

Thinking we would be staying up late that night, we slept in and started the day late. Once up, our goal was Grand Central Station and The United Nations. It's said that to go through Grand Central is to enter Manhattan like a king. I was on my way out but still thought the king part should apply well.

However, on the way there we got distracted. I wanted to walk by Bryant Park and Mandi saw that the New York Library was on the way too, so we got of the subway early and walked east through Midtown. Bryant park was pretty but cold, so our stay remained brief. The library, however, was spectacular. The architecture belongs more to a cathedral than public library, with murals, marble, and mosaics. It was beautiful. It would make a great arena in which to be locked in epic battle with a paper.

Just down the street, we got to Grand Central Station. The building was gigantic, but instead of exploring first, we went downstairs to the food court in search of breakfast/lunch. The food court was crowded but good, particularly the chili Mandi discovered. Then, we took turns photo-oping in the main hall, then left for the United Nations (also just down the street—42nd is an important street).

Getting in took a while because in front of security, a giant line for the metal detectors had formed and everyone had tons of coats and scarves to remove. Once we were in, we walked around and toured through a Holocaust exhibit. We could have signed up for a tour of the inner halls, but the next available group was too late that afternoon, so we decided to head back.

Mandi had mock that night, but after mentioning it was my last night in the city, she was able to escape early. We went to Think Coffee again and talked for a long time. That night, we decided to take it easy and order pizza again (again from Patsy's, and again SO tasty—I love basil leaves).

That morning, about 4:30 a.m., we woke up and said our goodbyes. I was worried about finding a taxi that early in the morning, but not two steps out the dorm door, one immediately drove by—the magic of New York, I guess. The ride out seemed considerably less wild, perhaps a product of my acclimating to city life or just because the cabbie was less enthusiastic.

I can't wait to go back. The City is a singularly exciting place—intimidating at first, but in part because of my great guide, also very intimate and manageable. For me the smells and feelings of the City brought back memories of Moscow. But, New York is unique, more optimistic, more uplifting and flashy. Leaving was bitter-sweet because, although I faced returning to school, work and ordinary life, I knew I would visit again. Cliché as it might seem, in-love is undeniably the best way to see the city.

NYC: Day 6

2009-03-15T23:59:00.000-07:00

Sunday, in comparison with Saturday, was much slower and relaxed.

Mandi and I headed out late in the morning for the Staten Island Ferry. She packed some lychee nuts to snack on, we stopped at Tea Spot for some breakfast tea, and hopped on the subway. The conductor didn't stop at the station directly under the ferry dock, so we got off one stop away and walked through downtown back to the dock.

A skilled performer provided unexpected harp music while we waited for the boat—very soothing. On the ride over to Staten Island, we sat out on the side deck, which, while freezing, provided a great view of the Statue of Liberty.

The ferry docked, we walked out onto Staten Island, and, unable to find any reason to stay, almost immediately headed back for Manhattan—so much for that. To stay a bit warmer, we rode inside this time and then headed back to Washington Square for food.

Mandi guided me to the small sushi place, Miyabi. From our seats, I could see the kitchen area where sushi chefs sliced and rolled our food. The sushi was great and we ate three rolls each. A ton of the places we ate were right next to the NYU Law School—definitely incentive to check that out.

Still pretty tired from way too much walking on Saturday, we took the night easy, picking up some food from Cafe Habana a few blocks away (I'm glad we took it to go; the place was really cramped.) and spent the night in.

I got a veggie, mushroom sandwich and Mandi chose catfish, which we, as with almost every meal on the trip, generously swapped with each other, while watching Amélie.

NYC: Day 5

2009-03-14T23:59:00.000-07:00

Saturday—the day we had planned all along to head to Brooklyn. While Mandi pretended to work, I would check out her job and DUMBO, the area around the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges.

Mandi had it all planned out. We hopped on the subway to York Street, walked past Mandi's work, and to a sweet coffee/pastry shop called Almondine. I'm a breakfast person—even though, in reality, it was pushing noon—which automatically predisposes me to coffee shops. But this was the real deal—tons of baked pastries and excellent coffee. Mandi suggested we try the spinach soup as something a bit more filling and, because she mentioned she had never had a macaroon, I insisted we get the biggest, chocolate-iest one.

After breakfast, we wondered around a bit, taking a few photos at the river-side park with the Brooklyn Bridge in the background, before heading to Mandi's work at Melville House Publishing. I met one of her co-workers, whom we relieved from watching the small bookstore in front so she could grab food. Melville House, a smaller publishing house, consisted of a front, bookstore area, and a back workroom, revealed by turning one of two revolving bookshelves. While Mandi watched the store, I thumbed through a few books and generally took in the space.

Once again out in Brooklyn, we headed for the weekly Brooklyn Flee Market a few blocks away. The market split between two indoor areas. Mandi and I wandered around, trying eclectic clothing, snacking on free samples, and talking to people. As we passed by a jeweler, Mandi mentioned she really wanted to find a rough/tumbled, turquoise necklace, which, to her utter and almost childish delight, we found not 20 minutes later.

On the way back to Melville House, we stopped by Mandi's favorite place for soup—she's kind of food-crazed actually—Foragers Market. She picked up a bottle of kombucha tea, a slightly fermented tea drink originally from China. We hung around work for another hour or so, then walked back into Manhattan via the Brooklyn Bridge. The walk was a bit crowded—lots of tourists who, without fail, blocked progressively more irate bicyclists trying to cross. The bridge led straight into downtown, and we stopped by the site of the World Trade Center—not much to see, just construction—before grabing a subway train back uptown.

Instead of getting off near Washington Square, however, we stopped by Union Square for the Saturday farmers' market. (There are TONS of markets on Saturday.) Mandi picked up some apple cider for later, and we also stopped by Lush so I could be inundated by perfume-y fragrances while she picked up some soaps and shampoo.

Mandi had mock trial again that night, but instead of going, I ran downtown to Chinatown. My mom had highly recommended picking up lychee nuts, a sweet and ubiquitous snack found in nearly every market there. I ended up walking all over downtown that night, heading from Chinatown to Wall Street to the Stock Exchange—which was, of course, closed—and back to Chinatown in a huge loop. It wasn't terribly cold, but I had been walking all night and was pretty tired by the time I found my way back to the subway.

By this time Mandi was out of mock trial, and, both of us starving, we went straight for food. We ate at Quantum Leap, a vegetarian restaurant (by the way, New York is amazingly vegetarian friendly—no surprise there). The nerdy name didn't distract me from the amazing food. I had a veggie burger, which held no pretensions for being healthy, only tasty.

week in the city

2009-03-14T14:53:00.001-07:00

I've been so busy nyc-ing, there hasn't been time to blog; I've been using every moment to make this a wonderful trip. BUT, I thought I would post a few things quickly:

The city is phenomenal; the subway is convenient; the weather is cold; the food is amazing (but expensive—ah well); the sights are breathtaking; and the girlfriend is wonderful.

To save time for me—and provide a fairly comprehensive and creative blow-by-blow—check out my girlfriend's blog.

NYC: Day 4

2009-03-13T23:59:00.000-07:00

This morning, after sleeping in for the first time all trip, Mandi and I headed to a niche restaurant she had been hyping for weeks: Rice to Riches. In a space-age looking shop completely out of place among the exposed brick and urban aesthetic, it was an amazingly quirky experience all about rice pudding! We decided to split four flavors between us—french toast, pecan pie, cherry-mascarpone, and banana-coconut. An excellent and a very eccentric way to start a day at MoMA.

Since before planning the trip, Mandi always wanted to show me New York's Museum of Modern Art. It's one of her favorite places, understandably considering how it matches her obscure, artsy sensibilities. We took turns taking odd pictures with the art and generally being silly. Unfortunately Van Gogh's "Starry Night" was on tour, but we still saw tons of Warhol and Pollock. We rested in a dark-room exhibit showing an evocative, 40-minute slideshow featuring photographs about love and its progression over time, and briefly sat in the sun of the sculpture garden, which would have been beautiful to lounge around had the weather not been freezing.

That afternoon, we again went out with Brooke to a restaurant quite possibly conceived by a dessert guru on the verge of chocolate-induced nirvana, Max Brenner, which focuses whole-heartedly on everything chocolate. I had a toffee hot chocolate and split a pita-dipper platter with Mandi. Obviously, the gestalt of the desert menu was imposible to take in one visit; I hope I can return soon and possibly try the chocolate-and-marshmallows pizza!

That night, Brooke headed off to the movies, so Mandi and I decided to go to her favorite pizza place just down the street from the dorm, Patsy's. While we waited for food—I remember, I was starving, having eating nothing but sweets the entire day—I couldn't stop watching one of the employees, possibly the owner, who continually greeted guests and acted friendly. He would take the men's hand, kiss the women's cheek, laugh deeply at jokes—all things done in the manner I imagined a cliche Italian pizza-restaurant owner would use.

It was great. Also, the pizza was incredible. Every slice had on them whole leaves of basil. Between the two of us, we finished an entire 8-slice pizza in close to 30 minutes flat.

NYC: Day 3

2009-03-12T23:59:00.000-07:00

This morning, Mandi had an ethics mid-term so I was left to wander again. I started out purposeless, but after walking down to 5th Avenue, decided to head for the Empire State Building. It looked so close!

It was not so close, but only took about 30 minutes to walk there, including stopping to take photos and generally be tourist-y. I had a great time gawking at the Flatiron building near Madison Square Park.

By the time I got to the Empire State, I knew Mandi would be getting out of class soon. But I had come too far to turn back, so I quickly got in the observation deck line. The line moved pretty fast, I thought, at least until I got to the elevator, which by comparison really DID move fast. I spent a good 20 minutes on the freezing 86th-floor observatory deck, snapped a bunch of pictures, then headed down. I hunted around the base of the building for a restaurant my great grandmother had apparently left a glove in—a story my parents have always told when prompted with the subject—but didn't find anything so I walked swiftly through the cold back to Washington Square.

Mandi had her last class for the week that afternoon, so I'm off again—this time south. I walked clear form SoHo into the downtown area. The sheer size of the buildings hurt my neck and I wondered around the state capitol building and the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge before catching the subway back.

I rested my feet for a while and that evening we again went out again, this time uptown to Times Square and Broadway! We had tickets for Avenue Q, an ingeniously hilarious Sesame Street parody about the hardships of real life and burgeoning adulthood. Mandi and I were both struck by the actors' skill, both in handling the puppets and acting themselves.

We also coincidentally pasted by Birdland, the famous jazz club that gave Charlie Parker his fame. But after having such a busy day, I was more focused on heading home for the night. Maybe next time.

NYC: Day 2

2009-03-11T23:59:00.000-07:00

The next morning Mandi again had class. But instead of going, I chose to strike out on my own for a bit. I made a large circle around the campus and walked for a while down Broadway, peering in windows and taking in the city.

I met Mandi just as she got out of class, and we headed to Ino, a cafe and wine bar west of campus. It was downright amazing. We split

NYC: Day 1

2009-03-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

I got in late last night, about midnight. Would have arrived earlier, but the flight was delayed because of "wind"—yeah right. Mandi picked me up from the airport and we grabbed a wild cab ride into Manhattan. Mandi directed the cabbie straight to Pommes Frites (pronounced "pom freet"), a niche restaurant devoted completely to french fries and 25 awesome, heart-stopping sauces. We ordered the medium-sized fries (actually quite huge) and three sauces—sweet mango chutney mayo, smoked eggplant mayo, and, I think, rosemary garlic (obviously the least memorable of the three).

After devoring most of the fry cone—I felt absolutely disgusting at this point, but also very satisfied—we walked back to Mandi's dorm.

The next morning, Mandi had ethics class. I went with her to get the true NYU experience. Class was pretty staightforward, getting to class was not. It wasn't far, right across the street from the dorms. We hurried past the security guards, who check all students for ID as they enter the buiding. We could have signed me in as a guest, but didn't have time. Luckily, throngs of students were coming and going, so, being undeniably college-looking ourselves, we blended right in.

Completely foreign to me was the need for two sets of elevators: one for odd floors, one for even. We stood momentarily in line for the elevator—another first for me—and took a crowded ride to the 8th floor.

After class, Mandi took me on a tour of the Washington Square area. We stopped by some of her favorite places — Shakespeare and Co., American Apparel (sigh, of course), and Think Coffee.

I was very impressed with Think, a college-y coffee bar that turns into a real bar at night. It had that great, artsy atmosphere I alwasy look for in a coffee shop and reminded me a lot of Lux in Phoenix. Think was about twice as big but just as hipster.

Mandi also showed me all the NYU buildings like Bobst, the impressive, sheer-red library, Stern and Tisch, the business and art schools, respectively, and the law school. Then, we went to Tea Spot, a loose leaf tea house right next to the square, where I had a phenominal pumpkin-cream boba drink.

Hungry, but not looking for much, we stopped by the vegitarian-friendly Dosa Cart and grabbed some Indian dosas (dumpling-like things with pesto and chuntney sauce!).

I accompanied Mandi to her second class that afternoon, Letters as Literature. It was a much more intimate class. Afterward I met the professor, thanked her, and talked a bit about school.

Later for dinner, Mandi, Brooke—Mandi's roommate—and I headed to Caracas Arepa, a Mexian-food place. I got a kick out of the street address: 93 1/2 East 7th Street. We got yoyos, fried sweet plantain balls Mandi had been raving about all day. They were, as forewarned, awesome; I've learned over the years to always trust Mandi on everything food realated.

That night Mandi had to practice for mock trial, which was fine with me because I wanted to see her mock. We were a bit late because we ran into one of Mandi's friends in the square, but ended up being fine. Even after wasting practice time to hang out with me, she nailed her part. Apparentely not much of the team could make it that night, so I got plenty of time to watch her practice.

always the journalist, even on vacation

2009-03-08T22:17:00.000-07:00

I don't usually preview events in my blog, but this is a sweet exception.

I'm headed to New York City tomorrow! It's all pretty exciting, and I anticipate being exceedingly busy while I'm there. I'll be spending a ton of time with my girlfriend—my reason for going—and just generally enjoying my spring break. However, interesting occurrences always beget interesting blog posts, so look for those soon-ly.

This will be my first time ever in the city. I'm eager to experience it for myself and stop referencing my friends' experiences or the media "Big Apple." While I'll no doubt do touristy things, my girlfriend also has a list of "underground" or "local-only" things to show me. I'll probably end up sharing them with the world via blog. Because that's what journalists do, right?

Casablanca complex

2009-03-05T09:36:00.000-08:00

A recent article in the nytimes has me thinking about the role of the letter in our society.

Apparently, Obama used a hand-delivered letter to open communication with Medvedev in Moscow over the conflict-prone missile defense system. Awesome. Not only should we be talking with Russia and trying to foster a mutual friendships — I may be bias here, having visited and loved the country over the summer — but the protocol involved ignites the more romantic side of imagination.

Why use a letter? The most probable reason was probably to cover Obama's "paper trail" — of course, I use paper metaphorically here — which could have made the letter much easier to find and traceable. However, I'm more intrigued by the aethetic element of his move.

Today, letters have a distinctly film-noir feeling. I'm flooded by images of the iconic dark streetcorner, a man in a wet, brown trenchcoat leaning against a lamp post that casts an eerie cone of light just obscuring his face.

A second figure approaches. The first reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a letter, passed in a fluidly nonchalant movement. A shared nod.

The romantic idea of old-time diplomacy fascinates — three-piece suits, fedoras, long rain coats, the warm, full sound of significant footsteps. It's all a black-and-white film for me. So it goes without saying that for a high-tech president like Obama, I'm just astounded by this low-tech, vaguely romantic idea of deplomacy.

the best party ever, sources say

2009-03-03T08:11:00.001-08:00

My opinion ran on Monday this week, but I was just too busy to blog until...NOW!

I'm finding it harder to have pure, theoretical opinions; that is, to talk abstractly about an issue. No doubt, I've developed the lazy imagination of a reporter.

While reporting takes a ton of time and effort, the reporter him/herself doesn't need to contribute much. Most good, well-reported stories will write themselves after skimming through your notes, assembling the strongest quote and outlining the narrative progression. The most difficult part—and any journalist can attest to this, regardless of whether they agree with anything else I'm saying—is coming up with a lede (the first sentence or paragraph, designed to capture the reader's attention). Ledes are often the biggest test of a writer's skill. If you've done enough good reporting, the rest of the story should come easily.

That's why writing opinions can, at times, be challenging. I'm lucky; I'm usually present for enough exciting/controversial events and issues that I can use my reporting skills in writing my opinions. However, I can't imagine being an opinion writer trapped in an office building or other such non-inspirational setting. At times, I struggle with this in school already. When classes start slicing into my time, and I'm stuck studying instead of going to events or lectures etc., coming up with an idea can be excruciating.

It creates a definite conflict between performing my job as a journalist and still keeping up with academia, but, right now, I feel like I'm getting the best of both worlds, a good balance between class time and adventure.

It really is incredible how much I've experience being a journalist; my world has expanded so much. Over the past two years, I have developed a gigantic list of contacts from all over Phoenix. They are the people I've contacted at one time or another for an article. My friend Joe and I joked yesterday that I should have a "thanks-for-helping-me-with-an-article-at-some-point" party, where everyone who has ever contributed to my work gets to meet and talk. It would be a big party—lucky I have contacts in the food business.

two birds with one Matsuri

2009-02-24T15:55:00.000-08:00

Another opinion this week.

Matsuri was last weekend—also the subject of my opinion.

If you can get past the rampant anime/cosplay invasion, there are still plenty of awesome vendors, bonsai trees, origami and yakisoba.

School has really kicked in, so I'm falling behind on the blog.

photo finish in Phoenix

2009-02-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

Today in my Online Media class, we ran all over downtown Phoenix on a photo scavenger hunt — BEST CLASS PROJECT EVER!

Our teacher justified the event by saying we needed to get accustomed to using the Sony camcorders. Whatever. I partnered with Tess and we headed toward Roosevelt, hoping to grab something artsy and unusual. We never made it. On the way, we discovered tons of awesome photos, including a baby with his two understanding and hard-to-freak-out caretakers.

I also had to sprint to catch up with this guy, but it was worth it.

It's amazing how many photo opportunities you can come across if you simply look for them. Downtown Phoenix is more alive than people think.

Jimmy Carter @ Changing Hands

2009-02-17T21:23:00.000-08:00

This week's opinion was on Jimmy Carter's visit to Changing Hands Bookstore on Friday.

I had a blast talking to people and benefiting from my status as a member of the media — I used my AZ Republic badge to help persuade the lady guarding the door to let me in. Once I was in, Holly, Changing Hand's friendly PR woman — who knows me pretty well from all the events I've covered for them — called me over and set me up. She's so helpful.

The best part, however, was talking to the people assembled outside. I always feel like a real in-the-trenches journalist talking to people at big events.

Mill Ave. Inc.

2009-02-10T08:14:00.000-08:00

Things have been busy, and I've fallen behind on the blog. I still wanted to link to my column, though.

This one turned out great. I even convinced my editor, who was pretty excited by the topic, to give me a small deadline extension so I could contact an official source. Going to j-school and having "get both sides of the story" drilled into your head so much, I get satisfaction when I actually do "get both sides." Of course, it's an opinion so real, balanced journalism doesn't apply in the same way, but it still makes me feel like I've done my job.

I have a vague idea for next week. We'll see how it turns out.

cock fights and cop fights

2009-02-04T17:25:00.000-08:00

Breaking news continues throw exciting days my way.

I hadn't been at work for more than 30 minutes this afternoon before reports came in from the Arizona Humane Society of a major cock-fighting bust. My editor dispatched me to South Phoenix to grab the story.

I rarely venture into South Phoenix, and today served as a good reminder why -- it's crazy down there. I arrived at the cock-fighting house and took all the information available form the PIO officer. Three men detained by a group of police sat in the house's backyard, pestered by the continual barking of a nearby dog. I called back the information to the newsroom and stood in the shade of a Humane Society truck, out of the heat, to wait. The PIO, a very amiable guy, told me Humane Society officals were busy euthanizing the mistreated animals and an interview wouldn't be available for a while. Poor animals; some people are just sick.

I was begining to relax in the 80-degree, winter day when two officers sprinted past me. They tore down the street to their police car and gunned it past me, into the neighborhood. At the time, I was relaying more information back to the newsroom and my partner even commented on the rawrrrrrr of the car's engine. That was the first sign.

Soon after, I spotted a police helicopter making tight circles not more than two blocks to the south -- definitely odd. The PIO then drove off without talking to me. I desided to follow him since nothing was happening and sighted flashing lights in the distance.

Police swarmed the area. Residents stood outside, watching me suspiciously. No one knew quite what was going on, but it had something to do with South Mountain High School. Students loitered everywhere and it took a long time to locate the PIO on scene, the same guy from earlier.

He recognized me and waved me over, miles more friendly than his other police co-workers. The scene was still chaotic, but he filled me in: a group of seven to 12 students had assaulted a police officer after he tried to break up a confrontation.

While police tried to control the scene -- and the growning group of media reporter assembling for the story -- residents heckled the officers. They accused police of arresting their friends and family without charge, making an exaggerated show of it. It was a bad situation and I tried to stay out of the middle while still listening in.

I reported back frequently with the newsroom, gathering quotes and information. Luck had favored me by placing the two most imporant stories of the night so close together. Things settled down after about an hour and I headed back.

Crossing the Salt River into South Phoenix, you get the sense of being in another place entirely. The neighborhoods is run-down -- unpainted stucco, "bank owned" signs in broken windows, a "capture cam" guarding the entry to a housing development. That espoused with what I witnessed today doesn't make a good impression. I'm just lucky all of this happened during the afternoon, not at night.

who's got opinions anyway?

2009-02-04T17:14:00.000-08:00

I had another opinion in The State Press yesterday.

This one was probably my least inspired of the semester. I had a major story-idea block and spend a lot of time floundering around with it over the weekend. Finding good story ideas is the most difficult part of any story for me, reportering or opinion. Once you have a direction, the rest usually falls into place--provided you can get sources to talk, but that's another story.

I'm more excited about the next week. I have a good idea already and a source lined up for an interview. I love having an early game plan.

the shadow of Watergate

2009-02-02T20:02:00.000-08:00

Leonard Downie Jr., former executive editor of The Washington Post, will join the Cronkite School staff next fall so it comes as no surprise that the dean, et al., are promoting him as much as possible.

Downie lead the paper to many successes and took part in the most historic years of American journalism: the Watergate years. The romanticized notions of reporting that flowed from The Washington Post's Watergate coverage inspired millions of college grads to enter reporting, starting j-schools at nearly every university in the country. Since then—and for many reasons—the public's opinion of journalists has soured a bit, but there's no question Downie knows exactly what made journalism great.

A side note—
As I was heading into the Cronkite School, I heard two guys dressed in sports apparel comment on a nearby lecture poster hung on the street column outside:
"Hey, that actor guy, Leonard Downie Jr., is speaking. He wrote some kind of book or something."
"Yeah?"

Right. I guess the name resemblance IS striking. I couldn't help snicker.

It's not surprising that a prominent figure in journalism would have no recognition. Journalists, particularly editors, fade into the background of their stories. Most journalism doctrines applaud this; still, the moment was a bit sad—that any man so good at his job could be disregarded.

However, the scene differed inside. About 40 people came out, a fair number of them students. Downie talked about his new book, a work of fiction, which took my interest considering fiction is generally not a journalist's forte.

I have another of his books, The News About the News, which he spoke about on a separate occasion, and found it pretty straight forward. In a journalistic tone—that is, factual and dry—Downie explains a series of award-winning stories his staff worked on during his time as editor. I haven't finished it.

There's no doubt Downie would make an excellent addition to the faculty here, however. He's definitely sharp, tactfully deflecting a questioner who seemed hell-bent on blaming all newspapers for the war in Iraq.

He also understands—as anyone who has worked in a newsroom does—the pressures and responsibilities of the journalist, but can explain them without sounding self-righteous, a rare ability in j-professors. I hope I get a chance to study under him.

when hell breaks loose

2009-01-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

The way I see it, 46 people were lucky tonight.

Forty-five of them were children from West Valley Middle School, who all avoided major injuries after their bus driver lost control of the bus (for reasons unknown) and went for a wild, half-mile ride, hitting 12 other vehicles and injuring 26 people.

The final person was me, who got sent out to cover the story.

When I first got the page, it sounded pretty inconsequential: "PhoenixFD Medical Response 67th Ave / McDowell."

That was it. I thought, "That's vague," and shrugged my shoulders, more focused on my editor's critiques of a police story.

Then the next page came in: "PhoenixFD MED This will involve a school bus."

That triggered my editor. Instantly, his tired eyes widened.

"Oh no. This could be big," he said, rubbing his face with his hands.

I could hear both the terrible anticipation of a story involving injury to children and the lust for a big-time story in his voice. It's something we all share: a lust for stories.

Nothing can compare to the stress of driving to a scene in rush-hour traffic. I needed to get there as quickly as possible, but grid-lock had other plans. It took about 25 minutes to get to into the area and another 30 minutes to navigate my way through displaced traffic--the accident ran a gauntlet of nearly half a mile and police closed a good two miles of major road.

Even when I got to the scene, it was still chaos. Police and fire officers patrolled the perimeter of yellow police tape and news media of all kinds--television with large vans and cameras, radio with hand-held recorders, and me with my notebook--ran around talking to PIOs.
This is what I saw when I got to the scene:

The bus looked bad, but apparently other cars looked worse.

It took a long time to straighten out the facts; PIOs came up with new numbers for injuries, vehicles, and children involved every couple of minutes. I spent a good two hours there, among the police and other media workers, calling in facts and quotes as I collected them.

J-school can't compare to getting out in the field; that's where you learn real journalism.

from the chest up

2009-01-27T08:14:00.000-08:00

Another week, another opinion.

Oh, and I scanned in my joke/incredibly "unique" photo this time:
I took his head shot as a playful joke with the photo editor, with whom I'm good friends. It went something like this:
"Okay, now look thoughtful or something."
"Like this?" (pose)
"yeahyeahyeah"
"Ha ha, you're not going to use that, right?"
"No. Ah. Wait. We'll see."

Knowing Damien, this outcome should have been obvious.

It's not horrible though. While not quite professional fare, the photo certainly does set me apart from all the other I'm-just-too-cheerful columnists, which is what I'm all about. It makes you wonder, "just what is this guy thinking about?" or "He looks smart," or "Where is his other hand?"

Right?

a passion for tragedy

2009-01-25T09:21:00.000-08:00

I should probably post the stories I did Friday before it gets too late. In the fast-paced world of breaking news, there's just never enough time for self-promotion. It was a polarized day: a dead body and a charity fund raiser.

I can't get over the excitement of this new internship. I'm working eight-hour shifts—plus school—and need to get up unearthly early, but I'm having a blast. The adrenaline high gets me through, particularly when my pager goes off and displays something to the tune of "MaricopaFD—Body found. Now CONFRIMRED dead. PD and FD to en route."

Friday was the first time I was dispatched to the scene. As soon as the call came in for the body, my editor, Aric, turned to me and said "you'd better get rolling." I hurried downstairs and just as I was getting into my truck, a call came in for an aircraft crash in Flagstaff.

I called Aric:
"Hey Aric. What was that?"
"We don't know yet. Just keep going to the body scene and I'll get Drew to work on whatever this is."
"Okay, I'll call you when I get there."
"Right, just see if anyone's talking yet and DON'T cross the police tape, remember?"
"Ha, right. I'll look for details and neighbors, then call you back."
"Okay; get going."

Exciting.

After a few hours, you start to get a sense of how many bad things happen in a city the size of Phoenix—fires, shootings, drowings, murder, plane crashes, etc. It seems a bit cold, but I really do find myself wishing bad things will happen, just to get the thrill of covering an epic story. I don't want people hurt, but the urgency is addictive.

Regardless, I don't cause these things; I make them into stories. It may seem callous to probe tragedy for information, but I think my job has the potential to give meaning to seemingly horrible events. By understanding and reporting on these events, I can turn them from a bad day into a day to be remembered. It's my job.

change: Obama's got nothing on this

2009-01-24T16:06:00.000-08:00

As you can see, I spent most of the day redesigning my blog.

IS IT NOT AWESOME?!

I still have some work to do, but I just don't have time to screw with it all day, so I'll make a better banner/title later. It might be a bit busy too, but I'll think about scaling down later.

I also need to learn some Photoshop skills and get my hands on the software. Luckily, almost every computer in the Cronkite School—all Mac—has Photoshop. (Seriously, the new building is like a Mac-user's wet dream. Apparently—and this is just something I heard—the school was sponsored by Apple, which would certainly explain how they could afford hundreds of new iMacs. It makes sense. Apple wants aspiring journalists to learn on its software so they continue using it when they get out into the work force. That's fine by me; Macs rule. /rant)

internist

2009-01-22T17:23:00.000-08:00

ALSO, last night was my first shift as an intern for The Arizona Republic. It was pretty exciting and I'm cautiously optimistic about this year. This was the longest of three stories I worked last night.

I'll probably update this post with more specifics later. Until then.

first opinion

2009-01-22T16:50:00.000-08:00

It's a couple days late in posting, but Tuesday marked my first opinion column for The State Press.

It's too bad the head shot isn't on the online version; it's a pretty good pic. I took it as a joke, fooling around with the photo editor who happens to be a friend of mine. I should have known he'd pick the goofy shot, but it actually turned out fine. I like to think it distinguishes me from the other columnists.

my inauguration

2009-01-20T16:54:00.000-08:00

Today certainly felt different. I didn't know what to expect from inauguration day, but my expectations weren't high. Not because of the inauguration itself—I couldn't be happier that Obama is finally in office and we can move beyond the Bush presidency—but because I had no appropriate way to celebrate.

No spontaneous crowds, no flag waving, no cheering, no tears, no celebration—at least within getting to. I felt great; so great I wanted to release it all with my friends, shout skyward my profound happiness for our country. I was so proud.

But that release never came. I went about my day, happy but unfulfilled. My girlfriend's text from New York exacerbated the problem. I wanted to be there, with her, with everyone, to share in the glory of this day and what it signifies for the world we all live in.

Instead, I watched the presidential oath with one of my close friends, in his apartment. All of our other friends were in class. (They picked the first day of classes to do this?) While I watched the proceedings, my friend cooked breakfast, ate, got dressed, and—during the oath itself—brushed his teeth, not paying much attention to the ceremony. His company certainly beat watching the inauguration alone at my own place, but it was painfully obvious he did not share my reverence.

The beauty of Obama's campaign has been its capacity to bring people together, people of different races, different generations, and even differnt countries. However, that spirit seemed to fail me today. As I turned off the television, halfway through Obama's inaugurations speech, and rushed to class, I felt deeply alone.

viva la Webolution

2009-01-07T12:47:00.000-08:00

Just announced at MacWorld, Apple's iTunes will be offering DRM-free music files. I couldn't help myself; I had to post and get in on the collective blog-world hype. Now, we're all thinking "it's about time" but under this move is a radical consession by Mac, one of the few services that persisted in shying away from the Web revolution or Webolution, if you will.

At the core of the Webolution is the ideology that everything should be free, unrestricted, and immediate—a collective consciousness that grows each time a something gets made available on the internet. Now, you could argue iTunes isn't offering music for free, they're simply removing the DRM. But that's just naive. What are people going to do with DRM-free music? Well, anything they want—copy it, burn it, mix it, fix it, post it, host it, etc. (sounds like a daftpunk lyric, right?). That's an incredible power. The internet has opened up so many possibilites for creation; the ability to create almost everything online isn't far away. Google has been the major player in this respect, offering free cloud-based software ranging from mainstream apps like Googledocs to nitch apps like SketchUp, a computer aided design program (not to mention blogger, omg!). As creation becomes easier, however, value—in terms of money at least—has plumetted.

I'm still very optimistic, however. New technology always shakes things up a bit; that's nothing new. We need to learn how to adapt. Between the constant protests of recordlabels and the newsmedia's coverage of their own downfall, I just want to say "suck it up." No, traditional models won't stay the same, but the possibilities should outway the fear of change.

for the love of satire

2009-01-02T16:35:00.001-08:00

It's guys like Chris Hardwick that make me love journalism again.

I saw his article in the latest issue of Wired (I'm a bit behind) and couldn't help but salute his genius.

Not only does he do a decent job of reviewing time-saving self-help books, he does it with whit and humor that entertains. I love this article, from the quirky photos illustrating Hardwick's jam-packed life—something every journalist can relate to—to the way he organizes his trials and tribulations into a day by day diary. Hardwick's writing so self-aware; he pokes fun at idea of efficency training and himself in a way that comes off great. His writing style even makes me feel the rushed chaos that is his life (don't I know it well). No, it's not hard hitting or impactful, but it's damn funny.

Update: He also has a blog that's equally good.

john goodwin

2009-01-01T17:50:00.000-08:00

I don't know you.

I do know where you live—Flagstaff, AZ—and that you rode the bus around the town, at least for the month of July, last year—number 11298.

I found your bus pass in the Flagstaff Bookmans, nestled in Zora Neale Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God," which I bought. I chose that book from several alternative versions because you humanized it, gave it a previous owner, a history.

Did you finish it? I don't think you did. If you're like me—which I think you are—you never put a bookmark back into a finished book. It's a kind of neurosis; a completed book doesn't need a bookmark.

So you left your bus pass in the book when you sold it. Did you mean to leave it? Maybe you simply forgot about it; or maybe you remembered, just as you were handing the book to the clerk behind the counter. You remembered but were too rushed to retrieve it. What good is an expired bus pass? It's not worth worrying about, not worth bothering anyone.

You should have finished the book, John. The final portion was the best. Janie finally finds a husband worth standing behind—third time's the charm, you know? There was a huricane. I think you would have like it.

Thanks for the recommendation, though; indirect as it was. Also, I hope you've bought a car. Taking the bus sucks, expecially in winter in Flagstaff.

on the eve of an obama new year

2008-12-31T11:09:00.000-08:00

2009—finally! This new year holds so much promise, so much hope, so much change.

With less than a month to go, all the hype over Barack Obama’s inauguration—and Bush’s retirement—is about to boil over.

Curt “1.20.09” buttons and t-shirts—the day Bush leaves office—have populated hipster bookstores and independent coffee shops for over four years. I don’t remember as much anxious anticipation when Clinton faced impeachment, either an indication of how much worse things are this time around or a sign that republicans lack the ability to make trendy accessories.

But anyway, as the date draws nearer, I have to ask myself, why am I not more excited?

I should be. This is what we’ve all been struggling toward. Every time Pres. Bush or one of his ilk make John Stewart’s day with an fourth-grade lingual gaffe or example of social incompetence, I adopt the same reaction as my peers—eyes rolled, hand on forehead, make a “pishhh” sound with mouth before expressing utter disbelief that a man elected president could behave this way. I, like nearly 80% of American, desperately need Obama to hurry into office.

However, my apathy for Obama’s takeover becomes more apparent to me every time I go out with my girlfriend. She (and her mom) are obsessed with Obama, to the point of yelling and cheering whenever they see a TV news segment or an Obama bumper sticker. In contrast to their, at times overwhelming, enthusiasm, I feel like a party pooper.

I guess I’m just still skeptical. I know that a president—excellent figurehead and scapegoat that he is—never works alone. Obama’s appointments hold as much political significance as his election, though they have received much less hype. Some choices worry me a little, such as Hillary Clinton and retaining Robert Gates.

There’s also a lingering distrust over the reality of Obama—Obama the man not Obama the idea. His orations inspired so much hope, but will his actions?

An article in New York Magazine by John Heilemann (http://nymag.com/news/politics/powergrid/53165/) titled “Bush and Barack, Bedfellows” summed up my feelings well:

“That all this has come as such a shock to so many owes to a misreading of Obama as a starry-eyed idealist—when there was ample evidence that lurking just beneath the surface was a hard-eyed, sometimes hawkish realist,” writes Heilemann.

This isn’t a pessimistic criticism of Obama so much as a reminder that Obama, like any president, is a politician. All the idealism aside, the hard realities of our economic situation, war, energy crisis, etc., and the constant game of political positioning and posturing still apply. It gets in the way of all that raw optimism I so desperately want to feel.

Obama’s election marked a monumental point in American history, what could be the highest point in this century’s zeitgeist, and a defining bulletin for our generation. Not since the post-Nixon wave of political disillusionment that dug a sharp precipice between politicians and the American people have people displayed such widespread optimism. “Change,” to me, stood for hope, hope in a future people could believe in and support instead of rolling eyes and enduring on the motto: “he’ll be out of office soon.”

For the sake of my mental health, I’m going to make an effort to forget all the negative for a while; just let it all go. Obama is a politician, but he’s a new kind of politician, a unifying, hopeful politician—for better or worse. That, at least, is something worth getting excited about.

the grand experiment

2008-12-30T10:03:00.000-08:00

I'd just like to say, quickly, that having a blog has been a real love/hate exercise. At times I get very into the idea, but for the majority, posting is so low on my priority list that I find it hard to get anything together.

I post most often when I'm at my computer trying to avoid work, which could be a problem now that I have begun my first ever...

CLASSES ON TEH INTERNETS!!1!

Thank you, Lolcat, for illustrating my dilemma.

Imagine a world, in which distraction is merely a click away, sometimes closer. Behind the open window of Microsoft Word lecture notes, tabs and tabs of internet memes clutter my screen. This class is going to be cake (delicious cake...you must eat it...), but working up motivation and concentration provides enough challenge. I signed up for this session to circumvent taking POS 160 during the school year and, I assumed, I would be doing nothing important over the break anyway. Two weeks of doing nothing important later, I have sub-zero work ethic.

However, coffee solves all problems. Where would we be without it? Probably exactly where we are now, posting on this blog, minus shaky hands and a full bladder.

how long a moment lives

2008-12-13T09:57:00.000-08:00

I’m standing here holding you
Surprised your head still fits
like a puzzle-piece prong
between my chest and chin

Moments before
you ran to press your smile into me
Your coats and bag
flung in haste to the floor

You hit me
a gale that takes my breath
and for a conscious second
we are every cliché couple

reunited in countless rendezvous before
Wordless in bliss
Tangible and real
I will my nerves to remember this touch

and give them time
to settle a debt they’ve long endured
My other eager senses
jealously screaming to experience

The pressures of embrace fade
and you move away
to hug your patient parents
But I’m still a flash behind

Floating blind in the moment of contact
Feeling full to fulfillment
I can already tell
I won’t discern another thing all night

holiday first fridays

2008-12-12T16:12:00.000-08:00

So, a week after actually going to First Fridays in Phoenix, I'm going to post about it!
For those who don't know First Fridays, it's a monthly art walk downtown along Roosevelt Street and the area immediately surrounding. Started about 10 years ago, the event has grown exponentially in the past five, becoming so large the city expanded it, closing an entire street south of Roosevelt for vendors. I wrote an article dealing with Roosevelt earlier in the year so I also know the city plans to close a second street starting in January.

For me, the most important component of First Fridays is the atmosphere. Particularly as the night progresses, there's a feeling of youthful expression and experimentation—art and independence everywhere. Creativity seems to feed off of itself and things get progressively more crazy the later you stay.
Case in point: impromptu break dancing ring—

also, guy with flaming staff—

Sheriff Joe hatin'—

It was cold enough to warrant a light over shirt—wintery enough for Phoenix residents. Vendors pleaded, "last chance for holiday gifts" and the like. January should be colder, though I'm starting to doubt the weather's ability to change at this point.

There was also an incident with two, flannel-obsessed girls, possibly wasted, who seemed friendly enough until they suddenly flipped shit on my friend for giving them "that look." Good times.

+7450 ft

2008-12-04T22:36:00.000-08:00

It's hard to appreciate winter when it remains 80 degrees here in Phoenix. However, I did get a chance to escape to northern Arizona with the folks over the break.

Even in Flagstaff it was pretty hot, but we drove by some snow—a light dusting at best. Still, it made for a cool (pun intended) change of pace.

I'm headed to First Friday's in Phoenix tomorrow. Provided I remember my camera, look for another post shortly.

Yeasayer; Sayyeaer

2008-12-03T20:33:00.000-08:00

IT'S BEEN A WHILE!

I've been so wrapped up in school—his semester reached new levels of ridiculousness—that I've barely had time to breathe. Frankly, I don't want to get into it now. I'd rather post some of these awesome pictures I from Yeasayer at The Rhythm Room in Phoenix, Nov. 25th.
For those who don't know Yeasayer, they're an experimental band from Brooklyn, NY. They have a definite Indian, psychedelic feel. This was the second time I've seen them—both times at The Rhythm Room—and it was quite an experience. The band added a spiritually appropriate lights show that synced with the music beautifully.
Yeasayer only has one cd out, titled "All Hour Cymbals," but it's great.
The lights made so much difference. Last time, Yeasayer came with MGMT, a band that has gained a huge following lately. MGMT played second and Yeasayer third. The venue was packed for MGMT, but half the people left before Yeasayer. It was a little sad. This time the place was packed for Yeasayer—an appropriate compensation.
I'm pretty pleased with the photos. The lights made awesome photos and provided light for me to take the photos.
That's it for now. I'll try to update more often with interesting material. Until then!

financial phobia

2008-10-27T23:14:00.000-07:00

The perfidy of lawmakers continues to astound—particularly in tightwad Arizona.

Such is the case with proposition 105 on the Arizona ballet this November. Under the proposed amendment to the constitution, anyone who does not vote in an election concerning a raise in taxes or spending would be automatically counted as a "no" vote, the idea being: only a majority vote could pass costly legislation.

A thin rational of majority-rules mentality hardly veils the intentions behind this one: fiscal zealousness. As a native of Arizona, I recognize that my state leans heavily toward the fiscal conservative ideology. As a registered democrat, I'm fine with that.

However, I reject assumption that fiscal responsibility must espouse idiocy. Quite frankly, the majority of Arizona lawmakers seem concerned for nothing beyond the abating of taxes and spending, stinting the community of opportunity and support. In a state where degenerating schools, tanking housing market, and health care failures practically scream for funding, all these affluent lawmakers must be blind—or too removed to care in their lavish, hillside estates.

Generalizations yes, but someone needs to beat this real-world formula into our leaders heads: money + shepherding regulation = improvement
stinginess + haughty disregard = decline

Services require money, even in a state with a deficit like Arizona. And how did we get in this deficit? Lawmakers capped taxes without considering inflation, expenditure growth, or economic trouble. Stop backing us into a corner for fear of taxes! We all pay for it later (or now).

an uncertain future

2008-09-28T20:01:00.000-07:00

Crap, I can't believe it's almost October. This semester certainly has been a challenge, but, taking it one day at a time, the weeks pass. It's taken me this long to feel like I'm back on top of things, keeping up with my work, navigating the slue of bureaucratic advising appointments, acquainting myself with my new professors.

I don't like my classes as much as last semester, but they're all necessary to my major, so whatever. I'll get through them, even if I learn nothing in my sociology class, which is a total joke.

This semester, I had a drastic crisis of confidence. Perhaps as a result of writing two major papers, reporting for the State Press, getting a job, and struggling with an excruciatingly annoying sleep schedule, I felt horrible about everything. Honestly, those few first weeks were incredibly depressing. I spent every moment, from the time I woke to the time I fell asleep working while my friends enjoyed the relaxing period of the first weeks of school.

Luckily, things have improved. Still busy, I'm handling things better—and I believe my writing improved substantially.

But all that's beside the point, or rather, a means to the point. During that hard time for me, I worried constantly for my future: whether to change majors, what the outcome of my education should be, can I live with the choices I'm making? I can't say why those questions haunted my sleep, but they would not leave, keeping me as constant company in their damning uncertainty.

Philosophically, no one can know the consequences of their choices, but some futures are more certain than others. Soon, our nation will use $700 billion to buy failed mortgages from financial institutions, which hope to make their futures more certain—or at least easy. It's unbelievable to contemplate: so much of our economic structure built on IOU's and bundled loans. People point fingers at the president, the banks, the economists. I don't want to point fingers; I want to express my sympathy.

A powerful county like ours can rest assured that its hubris will be its undoing. How much could be accomplished with $700 million? How many children educated? How many illnesses cured? How much debt renounced?

At least we will learn something: how many banks can be saved.

Money can push the limits of motivation. In the face of so many issues confronting our society (there's never a shortage) the financial crisis raises easily to the forefront of our concern. And why not? Our society places so much emphasis on money—earning, saving, spending—as to measure life-long success on its accumulation. I don't claim superiority over this problem either. I'm worried; worried because journalism doesn't pay well.

But I've resolved to value life's adventure over a good paycheck. I want to live not for my paycheck but on it. This path leads to uncertain places and a lot of pressure to perform. At least now, I have confidence in myself to embark on the journey. I hope our country—and myself—knows what its doing.

front-page invisible

2008-09-10T21:25:00.000-07:00

Journalists are invisible. Well, the vast majority are. It's amazing to think about pushing your work onto print every day and hoping someone takes notice. Good journalism focuses entirely on the story, leaving only the small area between the headline and the lede (yes, journalists spell lead, lede.—why? Because we're pretentious like that.) to give some recognition to the hours of work and stress put into getting that story done on deadline. "By Ronnie McNewsman"—that's all you get. Can you remember the author of the last article you read? I can't.

Delusions of grandure are an integral part of the jouranlist dream. The majority of people don't enter this thankless, poorly paid, long-houred job without the idea of busting open the next Watergate, myself included. However, I'm beginning to understand—as are most people around me—that recognition will come slowly, if at all, and it takes intrinsic motivation to keep yourself going.

That's why you have to be a journalist for one of two things: yourself or your story. Some people genuinely want to help others through their work. I refuse to believe anyone enters journalism soley for the public good, but I've talked to many students and graduates that recall great moments when their work helped someone—in a drastic or small way.

I've had some serious doubts about my career path lately, but I'm feeling better now. I made some mistakes. Nothing drastic but I faced my first correction on Monday. In retrospect, it's just a sign of becoming a bona fided, hard-shelled journalist. There should be plent of corrections from here on out. Of course I'll try my best to minimize them but I'm not afraid of my mistakes (so long as I keep my job of course).

I realize, I write this blog to give myself an open forum. Everything I write is front page here, my life is my beat, and I have no deadline or editor. It's my release, my stage, my spotlight in the dark.

I'd also like to say, when a journalists ask you "how's it going," they mean it. Not because you're the subject of a story but because they know what it is to be stressed, to be critized, to be at wit's end, to be invisible. Journalists, or atleast the ones I know, make great listeners, and friends.

screw writing

2008-09-04T17:04:00.001-07:00

Out of fairness I think I should warn you that this blog is mostly rant. More insightful postings will follow.

Between trying to finish two papers on Russian society, something I have no intrinsic knowledge of, and working for the State Press at ASU, I'm finished. My mind goes numb as soon as my butt hits the computer chair. Lately, my sentences all seem dry, unimaginative, and downright bad.

It always irks me when I can't write properly. Beyond hampering my academic and journalistic life, it disrupts my sense of myself. I need more time. "Journalists must learn to work on deadline," they say. Well screw them. Deadline kills my creativity. Even the sound of the word puts me in a panic-induced coma. Yet, here I am writing this blog. I think I need this. It gives me a reason to write beyond the fear of deadlines and fact checking.

I'm off to finish another story now. The journalistic trial-by-fire continues!

working for the man

2008-08-27T15:41:00.000-07:00

Just got a job at the new journalism school at ASU. It's actually pretty cool; I sit behind a desk and organize equipment for the entire building. The job isn't too busy, providing plenty of time to goof off (like this post right now!).

So I'm learning the value of a hard-earned dollar and all that shit—as if I didn't already understand. I live in the cheapest dorms on campus and try never to spend money frivolously. It's true, I don't really worry about money much. My parents make sure I have everything I need but don't spoil me. However, in a way, that is being spoiled. Never having to worry about money is a luxury.

No doubt, there are plenty of people at ASU who worry about whether their next pay check will come in time to keep the roof over their head, but not many. Even a cursory glance around campus reveals egregious displays of wealth. Aren't these people supposed to be college students? College brings the stereotype of debilitating poverty, working long, odd hours and rooming with seven of your friends to get by with the rent. No longer. Now students commute to school with their parent's corvette convertible, flawnting the latest labels from stores like Urban Outfitter—trendy abode of the Mill Ave. fashion conscious.

Mabye that's stereotyping. Mabye I should get a fuller story before judging others. Maybe I'm right. Impressions can be a dangerous tool, but sometimes they're the most important one we have.

Speeking of impresions, I have to explain camera opperation to a tan, glitter-doused blonde now. The evils of working continue...

first musings

2008-08-09T14:48:00.000-07:00

Many people have asked: why Russia? The original answer is somewhat egocentric. When I selected the trip, I wanted something so exotic, so amazing that it would provide that wow factor from everyone. As I thought more about it, though, I realized the huge implications of my visit to Russia. This country has been through so much. Positioned precariously between Europe and Asia, Russia blends elements of both in a delicate, love/hate relationship; its history shaped by the pulls between East and West.

However, recent history provides the most interesting points. Just 15 years ago, Russia was controlled by the infamous Soviet Union--to some saviors, to others unquestionable enemies. All over Russia, dilapidated buildings, enduring monuments, and ongoing protests give glimpses of Soviet influence even now. Certainly, no other force has done so much to shape the events of the past century than the USSR.

I find it very sad. The people of Russia still feel great pride for their efforts to transform society using communist ideals; many still value Soviet ideals and reject "corrupt" western influences. However, capitalism has arrived. Clear signs of American influence show up everywhere: malls, American chains like Ikea, English music and culture, gigantic billboards covering whole apartments.

While Russian capitalism isn't as omnipresent as American capitalism, it is growing rapidly. You can see it in the dichotomy between Russian-style shops and Western-style shops. Western shops feature expensive, homogeneous goods in hermetically sealed packages while Russian shops serve cheaper goods of greater variety and varying quality. It could be argued that Western shops symbolize progress, but I disagree. I don't want franchised shops with quality controlled goods and regulated floor plans. I want unique goods and the experience of interacting with new people and places.

While Russia shows signs of Americanization, it's unlikely they will be subverted by American enterprise. Russians share fierce national pride and ingenuity. They will carve out their own path.

there and back again

2008-08-03T03:08:00.000-07:00

I'm back stateside after five weeks in Russia (so jet lagged right now so this one's short). I plan on writing a lot about what I saw and felt during the trip. I kept I journal during the trip to refer back to. For now, I make photo:
View from my hotel window. That's Moscow State University in the background.

One of the churches inside the Kremlin.

St. Basil's Cathedral = the quint-essential Russian landmark

View of the Kremlin overlooking the Moscow River

Christ the Savior Cathedral (after closing time so I wasn't able to go inside)

from Russia, with love...

2008-06-23T07:21:00.000-07:00

About to take off for summer study abroad in Russia. I'll be in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Samara. While I don't speak much Russian, I have taken the time to learn some essential phrases. Ya nie gavaru pa'ruskee (rough spelling estimate) should mean I don't speak Russian. I predict this one will be particularly helpful. Hopefully, I'll pick up more along the way, and depending on my experience, learn Russian formally in the future. It's an amazing language, as endearing as it is foreign.

I'm most excited about meeting the Russian people. Much of Russia was closed to foreigners until about ten years ago. I'll be one of the few Americans to see the country regarded as our enemy for most of the last century. CRAZY. It's a extraordinary opportunity that I won't take for granted.

Anyway, I'll try to post a few blogs during the trip. There should be plenty to write about but limited computer access. If nothing else, fuel for many eye-opening revelations.

yawn...

2008-06-18T09:37:00.000-07:00

I can't believe what a wimp I've become. Summer, according to all my friends and previous experience, should be the one time of the year when it's okay to sleep until noon. One month of summer down and the latest I've slept is probably 10am. Seriously.

It must be a result of zero night life. Back at home, life adopts a new level of boredom, the highest echelon of doldrum. So, without adequate incentive, my sleep schedule never adjusted to summer. I still wake up at 7am. It sucks. I can't even run at that time because, recently, it's already ninety degrees Fahrenheit outside!

It should be cool because I love mornings. Waking up early gives the illusion of a longer day, providing more time to do whatever--usually sit around the house, contemplating the future and wishing for a shorter summer. So sad.

On the bright side, I'm on the final stretch before Russia. That should catapult my summer back into the fuckin' awesome level.

I respectfully ask you to get the fuck over it

2008-06-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

The homogeneous tendencies of our society are wearing me thin.

It's true, I am relatively opinionated. My closer friends know my opinions on many things--I voice them frequently--but due to my latest advertisement of my view on Starbucks has stirred up plenty of counter-argument.

Taking into account that, over the course of the summer, nearly half my friends have found employment at the coffee giant (seriously, how many people can this place afford to employ?!), most of the feedback is negative. However, even those whose wallets don't receive compensation didn't generally agree. Some do, most don't.

This is fine; however, it brings back to the forefront of my mind the great opposition people have for different lifestyles. For example, I recently became a vegetarian. When I announced my decision to my friends, they responded negatively. They couldn't understand my motivations, but more importantly, actively tried to dissuade me.

This is where hypocrisies kick in. People commonly point to diversity as a guiding principle, but generally don't see it in terms of lifestyle. Diversity means outward differences, not personal lifestyles.

It hurts. To look at the people close to you and realize you don't have as much in common as you thought, alone, afloat in a sea of opposition, can be painful. If nothing else, my experiences have taught me something of what it means to be an oppressed minority.

It isn't right, but I can see some of the uses. Creating a homogeneous society keeps conflict low. There's nothing to fight about when everyone believes the same thing. However, restricting beliefs stagnates society and leads to violent resistance to change. And change is necessary. A society must be able to adapt to cultural alterations that can come from a variety of sources. A society that prevents change will perish.

So, what I'm asking is for greater acceptance. You don't need to agree with everything someone does, but you should be open to change. Change will come, whether the doors are locked and windows closed or not.

My opinions hold importance--to me. If you don't agree, I accept that, but don't try to change me. If I see the need, I'll change myself.

suck it, Starbucks!

2008-06-04T11:22:00.000-07:00

I recognize that my posts tend to be general and abstract. This one is not.

I hate Starbucks. Like a plague of rabbits, they have multiplied until they sully every street corner. Most of my friends question my hatred, seemingly irrational as it is. However, to me, Starbucks represents everything wrong with today's Western society , compounded by combining it with coffee.

I love coffee and coffee shops. I practically live on caffeine during school and find coffee soothing any morning--even in the 80 degree Arizona mornings.

But Starbucks had to ruin it. Now coffee shops all mirror the fast-food style counter and chairs, stifling differences in order to connect with the "Starbucks consumer," a breed who can not cope with irregularities or individuality in their coffee consumption experience. The Starbucks-style coffee shop extracts social interaction and local pride from the picture. They strive for international conformity and don't even offer free wifi, a coffee-shop staple!

When I go to a coffee shop, I want a hub of community interaction: local artists displaying their work, locally purchased furniture, alternative music, political conversation. Sure it's idealistic, but I doesn't have to be. I've frequented many coffee shops that provide all those things along with an atmosphere conducive to creativity and free exchange; places that emphasize the experience and not the five dollar drink. But they are slowly dying. No, people prefer the in-and-out, I'm-too-busy-to-care, just-give-me-caramel-flavored-caffeine-before-work experience.

So, when the day comes, I will weep for the death of the bohemian coffee shop. But for now, I fight back the only way one man can in a capitalist society: the money vote. Money spent at a Starbucks is praise for their soul-less, corporate agenda. My bank notes will never grace that sold-out counter. The battle for independent coffee rages and I find myself on the front line--anywhere, a block from a Starbucks.

quiet the voices

2008-06-02T13:49:00.000-07:00

Creativity is illusive, abstract, and even frustrating at times. To be creative requires time, inspiration, and insight. For me, it's a constant battle.

However, recently I've realized the battle is as much a struggle with others as with myself. Too often I reluctantly pass up an idea because I'm worried about how it will be received; not so much a fear of failure, but a hesitance to expose myself to friends and strangers. I doubt I am the only one. Society has conditioned people to place heavy emphasis on personal expression. We are defined by our work.

In a world with countless individuals struggling to show their creative value, have we created a threshold of expression that limits whose creativity has value and whose doesn't?

People should express themselves regardless of their creativity's value to others. Expression has personal value, quieting the restless mind and providing mental therapy. When the mind's voices quiet, I can achieve greater creative flow than when the voices distract me with their chatter: "Who will see this? Who will value this? Is this how you want people to see you?" Enough. I will create my own idea of value; disregarding monetary worth and public acceptance. People can judge, but I don't care.

other ways

2008-06-01T12:41:00.000-07:00

When does suffering benefit those who suffer?

In preparation for study abroad this summer, my class has been studying the book "Russia and Soul," by Dale Pesmen, examining what it means to be Russian. One of the main topics Pesmen focuses on is suffering and its connection to group solidarity. Suffering not as individuals, but as a group. Through individual experiences and interviews, Pesmen constructed a picture of what life was like in Russia in the post-revolution 90's--a time when most of Russia was closed to foreigners and journalists.

During the Revolution, life became very heard for the people of Russia. Many blamed the government, foreigners and the times; but through their suffering, gained a greater ideal of what it means to be human. Suffering brought the people together, uniting them in their struggle and creating the idea of dusha, or Russian soul, we have come to associate with them as a people.

In Western society, we lack this level of solidarity. Too often we see ourselves only as individuals. Individual greed over the consideration of others has continually spawned the evils of times, and while a solution to this problem seems all but impossible, it is clear we need something more. Something to bring people together, uniting interests and dissolving personal struggle.

Perhaps this is why we can not unite as a country at war. While many people have suffered as a result of the Iraq War, it is not universal, and therefore cannot be addressed by the people in a unified way. No one wants the suffering and sacrifice already invested to go to waist; however, the shady atmosphere that brought war and the investigations that followed cause many to question our reasoning. Americans have trouble deciding why we are at war in the first place. For security? To aid others? For oil? Opinions proliferate as growing disillusionment seems to form the crest of sweeping government change--or so we hope.

I place my hope in the idea of change. Change that we can rally around as a nation. Change as a symbol of a more united people and an end to the stagnating ideals of preserving the status quo. However, change is only a symbol. My generation must determine how to use it.

it's always faster going back

2008-05-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

Went hiking up north over the weekend. It was, as usual, a great experience with lots of good pictures.

When I hike alone, I tend to phase out. Thoughts envelop me as my feet find the way themselves. Sometimes I reach an almost meditative state, unaware of my the panoramic surroundings that I traveled hours to find. I'll stumble on a rock and snap out of my trance, blinking and trying to judge how far I've walked since my last conscious moment.

However, the experience always turns out enjoyable and very spiritually fulfilling. While I'm sure my appreciation for my surroundings wains in this state, it does allow me to cover good distances. This time I hiked about 12 miles or so to the spring of a creek and beyond. When my breathing hinted at fatigue and my toes burned from stubbing every rock in the path, I decided to head back--the only way back was to retrace my steps. Going home, my feet find easier footings--no doubt eager to remove boots and rest--and the down-hill trail pulls me along. The way back is always faster, not in time or distance, but in perception.

a stone through from satire

2008-05-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

Sustainability: the buzzword of my generation. Seriously, it's everywhere and on the lips of every politician, architect, and even ex-girlfriends. It all has me wondering: what if the future never happens.

For us, that is. What if we're all wiped from the earth in one of the cataclysmic events of science fiction or the day of judgment predicted by various religion. Isn't the world scheduled to end in 2012 anyway?

Wouldn't we look stupid.

So much talk about reversing the effects of our wasteful society when we should have been living it up! Cut down as many trees as your chainsaws can handle, dump whatever chemicals you deem worthy of the local river, burn as much gasoline as you can. Just go nuts! That's what we should have been doing. But, instead, we're whining about the polar bears. Who cares about the polar bears! The world is going to end in a few years anyway!

Can you imagine how much stuff we could do, not worrying about the consequences? Why save for retirement? Go out and spend all that 401K money on a new high-definition television and surround sound. You can watch all those nature shows and feel like you're actually there. Hell, actually go there. Spend that money for a private jet and personal guide to go on a 4 year globe-trotting adventure. Get that money out of the bank and put it into your life!

As for the nation, you had better vote in the coming election because it will be the last. This is it people, the last president of the United States. After we're all gone, whatever alien race or evolved species to find our remains will blame him or her for our destruction. We better make it count. Don't worry about economics; that's future talk. The stock market means nothing in the face of four years of liquidated funds. "Spend, don't save," ads will proclaim to the masses. "They'll be no tomorrow!"

We could declare global peace, but why ruin a good thing right? After all, we've only got a few years to go, might as well grab all the oil we can to make the most of our motor driven years.

Students should quit school. Why prepare yourself with an education that won't come to any use? And why puzzle out the mysteries of life when you won't have time to appreciate the answer? Be free writhing throngs of academia! Break your bonds of self-betterment and join the world of the moment!

Of course, if the world doesn't end, that would cause problems.

someday...rain...

2008-05-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

Clouds graced the valley for the first time in a while today, satisfying my need for climatic variety.

I've been feeling a bit down--summer dull drums. However, this morning I woke to overcast skies and gusting winds, providing a welcome respite from the summer heat. I biked all over my neighborhood, spending as much time outside as I could to soak up the beautiful weather. Glorious.

The picture is actually from the afternoon, after most of the clouds have pasted through. The sun burned through them by noon.
Weather effects my mental attitude in ways I don't normally realize. Tourists take the Valley's 300+ days of sunshine for granted; while locals commonly curse the heat and repetitive climate. Here, we love the rain, the wind, the clouds.

Someday, I hope to move where it rains more often. People say I'll tire of it easily, but somehow, I'm sure it wont loose it's novelty. The romanticized notion of spending a rainy morning in a coffee shop (not Starbucks, I hate Starbucks) and watching the rain fall over my morning paper and the rising steam of my heavily steeped, caffeinated drink consumes my aesthetic sensibilities.

Apathy while Reading

2008-05-10T15:54:00.000-07:00

The book I'm currently reading bores me. I just found out.

But do I put down the book and start another? No. It's a curious phenomenon that I've witnessed myself performing in the past. I will have no interest in a book I'm--presumably--reading for pleasure, yet I'll continue to read it regardless. Sometimes it takes me about a hundred pages to realize I don't really care about what I'm reading.

So I keep reading. All the while thinking about other things, only going through the motions.

I think it has something to do with optimism on my part. The book will get better. The cover looked so interesting. The author is so well-known. All these factors feed my drudgery as I search in vain for a reason to continue reading. I loose interest, loose the story, loose all understanding.

There's pride on the line too. I want to be able to tell people, "Yeah I read that." Honestly, I'm a bit pretentious that way. I fancy myself one of the literary elite, knowledgeable in the world of novels, essays, and literature. In reality, I only seem knowledgeable when compared to the products of a generation lost to television.

You know, the word "literature" always dumbfounded me. Throughout my education, I've signed up for English classes because I enjoyed reading and discussing the books other's termed literature. To me, they were just great books. How does something become "literature" and who decides? If it were up to me, of course, literary conceptions would change a bit--induction of graphic novels, science fiction, and good magazines for starters.

Regardless, I seem to be needlessly trapped in a book no one ever told me to read. No doubt, I'll finish it but not for pleasure, for completion. Something will not let me stop--like a drug addict without the high or the Pink Floyd video. I must finish the action I started (I swear I'm not OCD).

Cultural Walls

2008-04-29T11:38:00.000-07:00

On April 17th, The Arizona Republic published an article featuring Rep Russell Pearce's (R-Mesa) brain child, Senate Bill 1108. I didn't see the article until the 22nd, but it had a profound impact on me. In an effort to avoid partisan pollution, I disclose that I am a democrat; however, I believe Pearce's bill goes beyond simple party lines, contradiction the core values of American politics.

The amendment to the bill aims to stop state schools from teaching "anti-western" ideas, saying they "use taxpayer dollars to indoctrinate students in what he characterized as anti-American or seditious thinking."

The bill already passed in the House Appropriations Committee ona 9-3 vote. Fountain Hills Republican Rep. John Kavanagh, a member of the Appropriations Committee, said "If you want a different culture, then fine, go back to that culture."

Ok, what?

Now, this isn't the first time Russell Pearce has acted on extremely conservative legislation. He has a history of zealously campaigning against illegal immigration, supporting pro-life measures, and fighting excess spending of any kind. Those, however, are all viable concerns. I don't agree with any of them, but I believe he has the right to fight for his beliefs.

However, Pearce also has a history of going too far. The Mesa representative always pushes an extreme version of the conservative agenda. Many publications have attacked him (see the New Times).

Here's what I have a problem with: people elected this man! This man, who has the gal to talk about the founding fathers and Constitution on his website, wants to restrict the education of culture--a blatant contradiction of intent. How can you possibly think that will help anything in the world today? American needs more understanding of foreign culture. Too many times in history America has suffered blowback from cultural misunderstandings and oversights. Too many times in history legislation resembling Senate Bill 1108 has passed--in North Korea, China, Germany, Britain, etc.--with disastrous results.

I simply can not believe people still think this way in 2008. Our country can not afford to support leaders such as Pearce and Kavanagh. They stand in the way of freedom at its most basic levels. Their supporters may disagree with me; however, this particular piece of legislation ironically contradicts our broad America ideals.

If ever there was an answer to our problems, this is not it.

"Arizona, how big is big enough?"

2008-04-27T17:02:00.000-07:00

Just because you can speak, doesn't mean people will listen.

Edward Abbey has to be my favorite environmental terrorist/writer, influencing many of my environmental beliefs and social convictions. I'm currently reading One Life at a Time, Please by Abbey. I've also read Desert Solitude and The Monkey Wrench Gang--an educational staple for many schools--of my own accord. He understands what it is to live, not off nature, but in the middle of it; to observe its majestic beauty and understand its horribly unforgiving ways.

One Life at a Time, Please is a collection of Abbey's essays, many submitted to well-known publications, many not, all lamenting the direction the American Southwest has taken. The inspiration for this post comes from the work "Arizona, how big is big enough?" In it, Abbey addresses the rapid growth of Phoenix and Tucson, asking: why grow?

As a resident of Arizona, this issue hits my most core beliefs. Community leaders advocate growth as an economic necessity, but this can not continue. Arizona's limited water resources can't support much more, not to mention the endless urban sprawl that clogs freeways, pollutes the air, and creates "heat islands" depriving the city of rain.

What's more, growth destroys what I value most about the Southwest: nature. While I am far from a rugged mountain man, hiking provides great spiritual release for me. However, the commute to nature constantly grows as Phoenix expands, increasing my frustration and destroying the solitude that makes my experiences so rich.

Perhaps the most terrifying part of Abbey's comments is their antiquity. He wrote the essay almost thirty years ago and all the apocalyptic preaching has come to pass, and more. The U.S. Census estimated 1,388,416 people resided in Phoenix in 2003, 5,580,811 in Arizona overall. The city covered 475 square miles. Houston, Texas, contained 2,009,690 people spread over 579 square miles. (http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/)

The facts should speak for themselves, but in case they're shy I'll spell it out: Phoenix is huge. Not only are we outrageously spread out, the city has grown--continues to grow--at a rate that can not be preserved. It doesn't take an expert to determine collapse is inevitable.

Think of what's been lost. People flocked to Phoenix for its fresh air, dry climate, and gorgeous sunsets. Now, while the air is still dry and the sunsets more gorgeous than ever--due to increased particles in the air--the air quality has dropped to dangerous levels and the heat has increased due to the "urban heating effect." The urban heat island causes monsoon storms to literally split apart, sliding around the city as water parts around a rock. This causes droughts, further exasperating water scarcity in a cyclical vortex of environmental collapse.

So what can we do? Companies like Salt River Project and The Arizona Project are in a race against time to conserve water and unravel the current trends before resources dry up. However, nothing seems to be done to curb urban sprawl. Projects to build light rail lines could combat the effects, but as a resident, I doubt their effectiveness. Phoenicians love their cars too much, and if the amount of gas guzzling SUV's we drive is any indication, locals just aren't concerned. As with most environmental issues, action will only happen after people's lives are affected--a situation that's already a reality for me.

"Phoenix is big enough, Arizona is big enough," said Abbey. "What we need is not more growth but more democracy--and democracy, some other old-timers may recall, means government by the people. By the people."

Fly Conchords!

2008-04-26T12:57:00.001-07:00

Ever since I was first introduced to the HBO show "Flight of the Conchords," I've been an avid fan. It was at my friends house--I don't get HBO--that I first saw a full length episode, but I already felt indoctrinated into the fan base just from listening to my friend's favorite quotes. Endless repetitions of the word sex pronounced "six" in a mock-New Zealand accent never decayed from its original hilarity. Now I've seen the entire first season, also thanks to that same friend. The quirky, subtle humor that permeates every story only grows from the actual songs.

The new Flight of the Conchords album just came out. Most of the songs are great, fan favorites. However, I feel like they missed a few that would have added to the fan experience. At least they hit some of the most catchy, purely ridiculous ones. Someday, I'll get "Foux de Fafa" out of my head, but I'm in no rush.

Free Will

2008-04-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

George Herbert Mead--Social Scientist

What makes us act the way we do? A recently completed social sciences class drilled that question into my mind. "The Human Event," they called it. Both euphorically uplifting and deeply depressing, HON 272 opened my eyes to the myriad of controls society exerts on individuals. Society enables great things: communication, cooperation, solidarity, emotion--it has been theorized that the majority of emotions are socially constructed. However, it also limits individual potential, cramming them into pre-made molds that fulfill greater needs.

Just how much can we blame individuals for their actions. At every turn, society exerts influence. A self-sustaining system of operant conditioning, socialization, and social resources trains children to act in "civilized" ways, restricting their true potential and limiting individual will.

How can there be free will when there is no individual will?

Also, why do all these guys have great facial hair? The answer: society influenced them to grow beards and mustaches of great power. I can't think of a more compelling argument than that.