Tuesday, October 31, 2006

HalloTeen


When is someone too old to trick-or-treat? Not at sixteen, according to my son. And according to the Washington Post, he’s not alone. It seems like kids old enough to drive still like to go door to door for free candy. Here is a quote from the Post:
Call them greedy, call them intimidating, call them the unwelcome elephants in the Snickers factory, but the teenagers who inevitably appear on Halloween doorsteps are grasping for more than a fistful of sweets.

"When you're our age, it's like it's cool again to go," explains Anna Karnaze, a 17-year-old junior from Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology, who went as a toilet-paper mummy last Halloween and plans to trick-or-treat as a pirate tonight.
According to my kid, it’s all about the free candy. Never mind that the scene is as social as much as it is greedy. I used to be the parent in charge of walking him around until middle school when he started venturing out on his own. Tonight he took the car to a friend’s neighborhood. We just warned him not to trick and drive.

He at least bothered to dress up. The jester’s hat and pirate shirt came from the Renaissance Fair, so he’s getting good use out of those impulse purchases. He also did his own make-up. That shows he has some pride.

Judging by the kids that have knocked on the door tonight, he’s not completely out of the demographic. This year’s crowd is skewing older, but so far most of the costumes are pretty good. It’s later in the evening when you get the lazy stragglers.

And best of all? Tonight we are giving out the leftover candy he got last year but never bothered to eat.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: How old is too old?

Bonus Cuteness: Every year we dress up my dog so he doesn’t scare the little kids when he greets them at the door. And the costume? A yellow and black yellowjacket, of course.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Quizzical


Lazy bloggers resort to quizzes. Yes, I'm being lazy. But these quizzes are intriguing. The first one is from Geekwif who can't figure out why her nerd score isn't higher. I wonder how mine got so high. I guess since I am an engineer, I would expect to be very nerdy (as opposed to dorky or geeky).

I am nerdier than 87% of all people. Are you nerdier? Click here to find out!


I don't remember where I got this second quiz but since it shows I should be an engineer, it's tough to argue with.

Your Career Personality: Brainy, Logical, and Efficient

Your Ideal Careers:

Archeologist
Astronomer
Book editor
Business manager
Civil engineer
Designer
Economist
Inventor
Judge
Scientist


The next quiz is philosphical. I really don't quite know what they mean by 'existentialist', but it could be worse.

You scored as Existentialist. Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility.

Existentialist


75%

Materialist


75%

Cultural Creative


69%

Postmodernist


63%

Modernist


56%

Idealist


50%

Fundamentalist


38%

Romanticist


25%

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com


The final quiz is one used by kb on her Read/Think/Live blog where she cleverly associates social alienation with real aliens.

Alienation Test Results

Your Scores
Meaninglessness = 13
Cultural Estrangement = 19
Powerlessness = 15
Normlessness = 18
Estrangement from Work = 19
Social Isolation = 16

Scores should range between 5 and 25.
Scores from 5 to 11 could be considered "low,"
from 12 to 18 "moderate,"
and from 19 to 25 "high."


I think these results are the ones I should be worried about. None of these scores are less than "Moderate" and two are into the "high". I hope these quizzes don't bum you out, but they sure made me think.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Media Myths and Uniformity


Here is a picture of four of our five Chinese exchange students with some of the kids from the host families. As you can see, the kids all pretty much dress the same. I recently ran across an Alberto VO5 commercial that has been airing where two students at a Maoist-looking institution use hair gel to rebel against the system.



I showed this video to our guest and he seemed more perplexed than offended. He's pretty sure the actors aren't even speaking Chinese since he couldn't understand a word of the commercial. We asked if uniforms were required at his school. We had to explain the concept of uniforms by describing soldiers and doctors. He wasn't aware of any schools where kids wore uniforms.

Uniforms are the current faddish panacea for discipline problems in both urban and suburban areas. I'm not sure dressing alike solves the problems. My son wears a steady rotation of black tee shirts with jeans. If that's not a uniform I don't know what is.

One supposed advantage of school uniforms is that it avoids the cost of kids demanding expensive designer clothes. Have you priced school uniforms? Hello? A closet full of khakis and monochrome polo shirts is still clothes that have to be bought and laundered and replaced when they wear out. My wife gave our son the tee shirt she got from the local AppleStore grand opening. Cost to us: free. He gets all his baggy shorts and cargo pants at Kohls and if you ever pay full price there, you're getting ripped off.

If a kid won't go to school without the latest Amercrombie & Fitch or American Eagle (I'm old-school enough to remember when AE was business attire) that is a decision between parents and their children. School uniforms, like teen driving curfews and license restrictions, just allow parents to shrug their shoulders and abdicate their authority to The Man.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: Dealers choice: Is the hair gel commercial trafficking in offensive stereotypes or just some clever social satire? Or: Do school uniforms make a difference? If China has abandoned them, why are we eager to adopt them?

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

HoCo Hooker Update


Update (1/29/07): Brandy Britton committed suicide over the weekend according to a report by the Baltimore Sun.


My favorite blonde, D-cup, over-educated call girl, Brandy Britton, is back in the news. This time, against her lawyer’s recommendations, she is spinning her eye-rolling tale of how $300 an hour is a fair price for her ‘companionship’ to the Baltimore Examiner. She explains that the 150 condoms at her house were necessary tools in her research into HIV transmission vectors. She also thinks anyone without nine bottles of lube just isn’t enjoying sex enough.

If you will recall from my last post about her, she waived a judicial hearing for what is a fairly routine charge to get jury trial. Regrettably, my jury service is over, because I’d love to be on that case even if my blog would cause a mistrial. I know way too much about her and the case that I shouldn’t know.

According to an Examiner sidebar article, sleepy Howard County has made 52 prostitution arrests so far this year. Most of these probably involve truck-stop hookers and shady massage health spas, not a woman with a doctorate degree operating out of a soon to be foreclosed on $400,000 home (that is the appraised value, fair market worth would be much higher) on a sleepy Wisteria Lane-like cul-de-sac. She has already rebuffed one plea bargain offer.

Her latest version of events include paranoid tales of police persecution and harassment. While it does seem odd that it takes eleven cops to raid one two-story colonial for a middle-aged woman armed only with Astroglide, I doubt that anyone is now bugging her living room. Her latest court date has been delayed, this time apparently by the prosecution. The only other new press is a letter to the editor defending her based on the Examiner article.

Several things about this case still don’t add up. One mysterious critical event in her chronology is the short marriage to her legally-declared abusive husband, Isamu Tubyangye. During that time, the cops seemed more than familiar with her address, having to answer at least 27 domestic disturbance and other calls. How he plays into the legal and psychological dramas at UMBC is still confusing as well as exactly when Brandy turned on the red light as Alexis.

This low-life has seemed to vanish off the face of the earth after pleading guilty to assault twice and serving jail time for it. The Examiner article says that calls to his Florida home went unreturned. That means the reporter is paying no attention at all to the comments section of my blog, which clearly place him in Australia. If the reporter had been around for the two days before I deleted the comment, he could have jotted down the exact street address.

Which brings up the small community of BrandyHaters that have been sympathizing with each other as well as posting new information about Brandy and her ex-husband. My Brandy posts have brought out commenters that keep adding to the dialog long after most blog posts have closed shop. These folk have gotten so cozy together, I almost expect them to start trading recipes. While most of the parties post anonymously, there seem to be at least a half-dozen regulars. They include:

  • The wife of her former boss
  • The wife of a former ‘client’
  • A close friend of her now-remarried first husband
  • The former girlfriend and baby-momma of her second husband
  • A friend of the second husband’s current girlfriend in Australia

Obviously, most of these people have a grudge or an ax to grind, but some of the links and research are interesting, if not likely to be admissible in court. For example, while most of Brandy/Alexis/whoever’s official websites vanish soon after I link to them, this page on an escort service site (NSFW, in case you need to be told) still has pictures from her Alexis days.

Prostitution is frequently referred to as a victimless crime. When a husband is spending thousands of dollars on a call girl, there are victims, just not the ones in the legal process. One commenter (perhaps the same one) also makes the point that sexually transmitted diseases from a sex worker are a risk to more than the john. Of course, this applies to any style of promiscuity, extramarital, commercial, or otherwise.

The story has a high titter factor, which is why the press and public (present company included) keep following it. But there are real victims and ruined lives littered in the wake of it. That is hard to remember when there is so much theater of the absurd surrounding this case.

As an aside, Luke Broadwater, the writer of the Examiner article calls Centennial High School “perhaps the best school in the best public-school district in the state” which means he agrees with my characterization of it as “the highest performing high school in the highest performing county in the state” when I first blogged about Brandy back in January. Just sayin’.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: None. This post will probably not have trouble attracting comments and there is enough whoring in Howard County going on without my contribution.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Chinese Diplomacy


This week we are playing host family to an exchange student from Beijing. As part of an effort to expand the teaching of Chinese in the United States, my son’s school has been trading visits by administrators between our school and a similar one in China.

As part of the next level of exchanges, five Chinese students are spending a week shadowing regular American kids as they go about their day. In my son’s case, that includes his typical weekly schedule of two marching band practices, a math team competition, a meeting of the rocketry club, and a band festival. Since our student listed math as his favorite subject, this should be a good match.

One of the first things our student said is “My English is not very good.” Well, it’s infinitely better than my Chinese, so we have to stick with English. When we talk to him, we try to explain things a couple of ways until some of the words we use sound familiar. His favorite word is ‘Oh”, so we are not quite sure how much of what we explain sinks in. When he really needs to get a point across, he’ll resort to a little pocket electronic translator.

My wife is in charge of debriefing and interrogation. So far, we know that his dad is a chemistry professor and his older brother is a high school teacher. He also has a little sister, so that sounds like a big family by modern Chinese standards. His textbooks in China are a fraction of the size of my son’s backpack-busting monstrosities. Their school day runs from 7 am to 5 pm and school vacation lasts about two months. He also understands the universal language of teenagers, video games.


The students and their teachers arrived Sunday afternoon after spending two days in LA sightseeing. To give him the full American home experience, we cooked a dinner of hamburgers and macaroni and cheese. After demonstrating the proper assembly of a hamburger on a bun, he took quite a while to make it all the way through a Trader Joes quarter pound buffalo burger with cheese, topped with lettuce and a tomato slice. My son occasionally polishes off two of these, but our Chinese friend thought just one of these was an awful lot of meat.

That may be the last home-cooked meal we give him. Our on-the-go weekday schedule tends to include a lot of fast-causal food like Quiznos and Chipolte. We’re not sure he’d be up to a full-sized burrito. Some things are just cruel to inflict on visitors from another country.

Breakfast today was toast and jelly, which he made into a sandwich, following the example of the hamburger from the night before. As we turned the corner on the way to school, his “Oh” seemed genuinely impressed with the size of the average American suburban high school.

A week is almost too short of a trip for this sort of thing, but we hope to give him and the other students a fair look at the life of typical American teenagers. We intend to get to a grocery store, the mall, and a night at the movies. We have tickets to a jazz concert by my son’s saxophone teacher and the whole group will spend a day doing all the touristy stuff in DC, then they are back to Beijing. Hopefully some American students will return the favor and visit there this summer. All the parents involved with the program have already volunteered to chaperone.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: What should a visitor from China see to get a true impression of typical American life?

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Are You Experienced?



I have been following Sue Trowbridge’s great multi-post account of her vacation in Vegas. I blogged twice about us passing through Vegas and while the city is full of spectacle, the most impressive display to me was the Fremont Street Experience. While the Bellagio fountains are stunning, they are not nearly as immersive or hallucinogenic as the Fremont Street show. In order to bring tourists back to the old downtown strip, the city has turned the original strip into a covered open air mall. Four times a night, the ceiling turns into a giant video screen three blocks long.

We caught the last show of the night which featured a stunning air and space spectacular. The show is nearly six minutes long and my video is a single shot with no editing. If and when you are in Vegas, make the trip downtown and catch a show you will never see anywhere else.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: What is your favorite light show or tourist extravaganza?

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Me And Travis McGee

Back in high school, a girl whose taste in books I respected (she was also a fan of Kurt Vonnegut and pre-movie Princess Bride) told me I should read the Travis McGee novels. Based on her recommendation, I spent one summer working my way through the seventeen book series. Part of the gimmick for the series is that all the books have a color in the title, making reading them in chronological order a tricky task. Early in the series, more than one book would come out a year, so copyright year alone wasn’t enough to figure out the sequence. Fortunately, the books are fairly self-contained and didn’t get much of a continuing storyline until late in the series.

Travis McGee, the anti-hero in rusted armor of the series, is a lanky beach bum who rights wrongs for people caught in legal gray areas for a 50% share of the net recovery. Despite this mercenary approach, Trav, as his friends and paramours call him, is an avenging angel that is always on the side of the underdog and the disenfranchised. It helps if the victim is attractive and sexually vulnerable. The books are full of the softcore obligatory sex scenes that were a fixture of trashy paperbacks of the sixties and seventies.

John D. MacDonald was a World War II veteran and an MBA’ed business refugee that cut his teeth in the same oversaturated post-war magazine market that gave Kurt Vonnegut his big break. MacDonald then moved onto the lurid cover paperback original scene before beginning the Travis McGee series.

What separates Travis McGee from Matt Helm and Remo Williams and his contemporaries is the sense of place developed form the Florida setting. While the first several books jumped around, the series eventually settled down to focus on the environmental and financial horrors in shady Florida real estate deals gone awry. The books are much more exciting than that synopsis makes them sound.

As a then-Floridian, I took particular delight in books that exposed the hypocrisy of the region. Behind the adventure there were always biting commentaries on whatever injustice MacDonald wanted to filter through his muscled alter ego. Travis eventually gained a retired economist as a sidekick, so that the more esoteric exposition could be plausibly revealed.

After I worked through the series, I read other novels by MacDonald and then I became more than a fan. I became an obsessed connoisseur. I started hunting down the yellow paged first editions of each book. I bought books about Travis McGee. I watched bad movies based on MacDonald novels. After college I had moved back to Florida and got wind of a semi-academic symposium in Sarasota on the by-then late John D. MacDonald and dragged my wife to it on a whim. There I met even more devoted fans of the man. Some had flown in from California just for the event. I had even started a now lost Geocities page that was to be the ultimate Travis McGee fan site.

Finally, on a trip through Fort Lauderdale I made it to the Holy Grail of McGee fandom, Slip F-18 at the Bahia Mar. This fictitious address at a real marina was completely imaginary until the developer actually built an F pier. The Travis fame forced the place to start numbering the slips from 101 to protect the privacy of the actual owners.

In tribute to Travis McGee, and to give literary stalkers like me a photo op, they placed a literary landmark out on the dock. In a moment of true geekdom, I made sure I immortalized my visit on film. In the next several months, I intend to recreate those heady summer days where I read the Travis McGee books as fast as I could get them by rereading them at a book a month pace. I will post a review or commentary or whatever you want to call it on The Deep Blue Goodbye soon.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: Is there a regional writer that you like just because he or she writes about places you are familiar with?

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Guilty, Guilty, Guilty


Last week when I wrote about getting out of jury duty (and be sure to read the update about the trial), I promised to tell the tale of the trial I sat on nearly twenty years ago. I was in college when I got the jury duty notice. I immediately called the courthouse and told them I was a student and was obviously too busy with classes for jury duty. They kindly rescheduled for my next quarter break. Since I worked alternate quarters that at least got me on the clock, so I was getting paid for the time.

They picked the jury in the morning, took us to lunch, and then started the trial. The first witness was the victim of the crime who told the basic events. He was working alone in a small clothing store when the defendant came in and browsed for awhile and picked up a shirt. When the defendant came to the register to pay, he instead pulled a gun out from under the shirt and demanded all the money from the register. To prove he meant business, he fired a shot over the clerk’s head into the wall. After taking the money, the guy left.

The clerk did all the paper work things you have to do after getting robbed. He called the police and gave a statement. They came out and took the bullet out of the wall as evidence. He called his friends and told them what a bad day he had had. They decided to cheer him up by taking him out for drinks.

When they got to the bar, the clerk was startled and made all his friends leave the bar. He told them that the guy that had robbed them was in the bar. The friends thought it was a put-on, but he refused to go back inside. Instead, he described the shirt the guy was wearing since it was the one that had been stolen from the store. His friends went in and confirmed a person matching the description was there.

They called over a beat cop and told the story. Some cops went in to apprehend the defendant and when they did, there was a small satchel next to him at the bar. Inside the satchel was a gun.

In summary, according to the prosecution, the defendant had robbed a store at gunpoint, stolen a shirt, and then wore the shirt the same day out to a bar and took his gun with him.

Then came the expert testimony. A forensic cop (this was long before CSI) said the gun found in the bar and the bullet in the store wall were the same caliber. He could not prove or disprove that that exact gun had fired that exact bullet, but it was clear he thought it did.

The star secret prosecution witness was the sales representative for the line of shirts that the defendant had stolen. They were a parody of Ralph Lauren Polo® brand except that the embroidered polo player was falling off the pony. The shirts were called Get Off You High Horse and were only sold in two stores in the Atlanta area; the store that had been robbed and another store about twenty miles away. The sales rep had never heard of her company’s shirt being counterfeited since it was a parody of a popular brand.

That was the end of day one. The judge warned us not to talk about the case to friends or family and not to do any research outside of the courtroom by visiting any of the sites described in the case. From chit chat with my roommate, I recognized the name of the store and the bar as being in a predominantly gay neighborhood. I assume the judge was trying to keep jurors from forming any prejudicial opinions about the victim, the store, or the defendant.

The next day, the defendant took the stand to present his side, which essentially covered the following ideas:

  • He wasn’t at that store because he had spent the day with his dad who was too sick to come to court to confirm the alibi.
  • He had bought the shirt a year earlier from a street vendor on Moreland Avenue, several miles from the store that got robbed. (I knew that was a lie because I worked on Moreland Avenue and the street vendor shirts were mostly crappy white bootleg Ralph Lauren and DKNY tee shirts. Not a polo shirt in the bunch.)
  • The gun in the bar wasn’t his and must have been left there by somebody else.
The defense had no other witnesses.

The judge addressed the jury telling us that we did not have to believe everything the witnesses said and that part of our job is to determine who is more credible.

We elected a foreman and the first vote was like 9-3 guilty versus not guilty. Most of the discussion was around what was “reasonable doubt”. The last hold out juror thought that what the defendant had said could possibly be true. The rest of just shook our heads in disbelief. If ever there was an open and shut case, this was pretty close.

We were given the evidence to look at, which included the gun, the bullet and the shirt. The shirt was well made and in very good condition. Inside the shirt there was still an “Inspected by” sticker. This finally convinced the hold-out that the defendant was lying.

One frustrating part of being on a jury, as opposed to watching a Perry Mason mystery, is that there is a lot of stuff the jury can’t hear. The lawyers were always going up to the judge and whispering. At one point something slipped out that inferred the defendant had threatened the victim to not testify. We were told to ignore that and we were ushered back to the jury room for about ten minutes while the judge scolded the lawyers.

After we presented the guilty verdict, we were dismissed. The court remained in session since there were some other charges that the jury wasn’t needed for. I skedaddled and enjoyed the rest of my afternoon off and came to a few conclusions:

  1. Crooks are really stupid. Especially the ones caught parading around in stolen merchandise.
  2. Some people will give anyone the benefit of the doubt.
  3. Trials, even simple ones, take a lot of time to do the simplest things.

I feel good that a criminal went to jail as a result of my civic duty, but it’s not an experience I’m eager to repeat regularly.

Blatant Comment Whoring ™: What would have given you reasonable doubt about this case?