2006: Looking back, and forward

This picture shows me with my friends Erik, Susan, and Misa one year ago today, celebrating New Year's Eve at Excalibur/Vision nightclub in Chicago. As I get older and time passes progressively faster, this photograph seems as though it ought to be one week old instead of twelve months.

I suppose that 2006 for me can be described as a year of self-exploration. Last January, I was still coming to terms with the failure of my first "real job" -- in quotation marks because it turned out to be anything but. I still get angry thinking about it, not so much because of what happened but because I was clearly too naive to realize it before it was too late. A powerful life lesson to be learned from this is that there are many who won't think twice about screwing over other people, so you have to watch out for yourself. Maybe this sounds obvious, but evidently it wasn't a concept I took to heart until I learned the hard way.

In any event, this is how I ended up with the job I currently hold. I accepted it out of necessity, not enthusiasm, and I frequently wonder why I'm still doing it one year later. Hopefully 2007 will have in store for me a job that's much better aligned with my talents and passions. I'm fully aware this will most likely mean leaving Iowa City and relocating elsewhere. I have ambivalent feelings about that. Many of my closest friends still live here, and they're absolutely the people who have made my life the wonderful experience it's been. Yet I also acknowledge that I lead a very "safe" existence here -- stable income, a nice place to live, and little uncertainty. If I want to make progress in my life, I'll eventually need to take some major risks. Maybe 2007 will be the year for that.

This year was a very good one for friendships. I've gotten closer to the friends I already have, and I've made new ones along the way. I'm optimistic that the new year will be a continuation of this trend. I've also seen many friends in new and deepening relationships with their significant others, leaving me to desire the same. I see such a relationship as a way for two people of common interest to strengthen and be a source of guidance and happiness for each other. Granted, that may sound idealistic, but I've seen far too many people in superficial (and eventually failed) relationships to expect anything less of my own. I know that this is something that can be found only when the time and person is right. I also know it's something worth waiting for.

There's a lot more for me to say about 2006, but as its final hours wane, I'd prefer to ponder the year ahead, which has the potential to be a very good one. I wish everyone a Happy New Year. Be safe, and I'll see you in 2007.

Post-Christmas remarks

I hope that everyone's Christmas holiday was filled with as much mirth and joviality as my own. It's quite hard to reconcile the fact that less than one week remains in 2006. What happened to this year?

Pictured at right is my parents' puppy, with whom I did quite a bit of bonding over the weekend. We have no idea what type of dog he is; our best guess thus far is a mix of some sort, perhaps part Labrador and part German Shepherd. His origin is equally mysterious. My mother was driving home one day when she was flagged down by a woman along the side of the street. The woman told my mother that she found this puppy near the highway and did not want it to be hit by a car, but could not take care of it herself. She offered no clues as to where the dog may have come from or who owned it. My parents called the local animal-control agency, but no one had reported a lost pet and no one ever came forward to claim him. So, through this unexpected and unexplained event, they ended up with a new puppy. Perhaps it was simply meant to be.

He's believed to be about 6-7 months old and is already turning into a sizeable dog with an "alpha male" mentality -- at the dog park he chases around the other dogs and hogs the ball when playing catch. Still, he's remarkably well behaved for a puppy of his age, receptive to most commands and fully house-broken, despite his occasional devouring of electric toothbrushes and plastic laundry baskets. (He was less than receptive, however, to the purple ribbon we tied to his collar as shown in the picture. We didn't subject him to it for long.)

In general, it was an enjoyable holiday. Christmas Eve was spent with extended family at my aunt and uncle's house in Buffalo Grove; we stayed home and had some friends over for dinner on Christmas Day. It was a weekend replete with lots of food and the inevitable question of how the holidays seem to pass by quicker each year. All that remains now is New Year's Eve, and then we're on to ... 2007.

Barring any unforeseen conflicts, I'll post at least once more before then. Happy holidays to all, while they last.

Merry Christmas to all

I will return after the holiday, I promise.

Everyone's gotta have a hobby...

...One of mine, it just so happens, entails the collection (and, apparently, amateur photography) of half-gallon jugs of microbrewed beer, more commonly known as "growlers." Don't ask me how they got that name. I have no idea.

There are a couple benefits to such a collection. First, of course, is that it's relatively unique. People expect you to return from a brewpub or microbrewery with a t-shirt, pint glass, or souvenir six-pack. Unless the establishment you're visiting is tiny, however, the aforementioned items are simple enough to purchase online (with perhaps the exception of the six-pack, which is often available as close as the local grocery store). I'd prefer an item that, in most instances, proves that you were at this place. Growlers tend to fit that bill. It's usually difficult to obtain them anywhere other than the source.

Secondly, growlers can be filled and sealed just like any ordinary bottle, and they'll retain freshness for up to a week if stored properly. You can visit a brewer, sample various products on a tour or in a tasting room, and purchase a growler containing whatever beer was your favorite. I tend to opt for whatever is most unique or not regionally available. This means I'll likely choose a seasonal brew or limited-release found on tap only at the brewery.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, is that they're relatively cheap. A half-gallon jug typically sells for only $10-12; refills are usually between $6-8. It's a fun way to bring home craft beers that you can't get in stores and share them with friends. That way, several people can sample it without having too much.

Beer brewing, in my view, can be an art. It's a beverage that seems so straightforward on the surface, but can have infinitely unique qualities. Speaking of art, in case anyone is wondering whether I actually took the time to line my growlers and take a picture of them, the answer is "yes." Perhaps it's indicative of just how much time I had on my hands last night...

Time to put executions to death

This week, the execution of a condemned man in Florida made national headlines when officials botched the process and administered a second dose of lethal drugs to kill him. Angel Nieves Diaz was alive for 34 minutes after the first round of chemicals began flowing; the executioners initiated a second round because it was clear that Diaz was still alive. He appeared to grimace toward the end, and chemical burns were found on both of his arms afterward.

Such a story represents but one reason why I have such a venomous (no pun intended) attitude against the death penalty. The worst part about this case is that Diaz maintained his innocence in the nearly three-decades-old murder of which he was accused and convicted. Was he telling the truth? If so, Florida strapped an innocent man to a gurney and pumped two full doses of poison into his body. This is the same state, by the way, that finally ended electrocution as an execution method when two inmates' heads caught fire in the 1990s while in the electric chair. Unbelievable as it may seem, this didn't happen in Iran or Saudi Arabia. It happened in the United States of America.

There simply isn't any credible evidence that capital punishment deters violent crime; states and countries that ban executions have far lower murder rates than those that allow them. Plus, a person obsessed with taking the lives of others can hardly be too concerned about preserving his own. What about the racial factor? Any argument that the death penalty is blind to race (or social status in general) is just plain false, as is the assertion that executions prevent repeat offenses. A convicted killer won't kill again if he's locked in a block cell for life; and the chance to cut back on recidivism is far outweighed by the risk of executing an innocent person. The question isn't whether this has happened in the United States; the question is how many times it has happened.

The only rational explanation for capital punishment is found in the very base human tendency to desire revenge against those who have wronged us. Indeed, everyone experiences that emotion on occasion -- myself included. The problem is that vengence is so often masked as "justice" or "peace of mind" for those who have been hurt. It's clear that the death penalty neither brings back victims nor heals survivors of pain caused by such horrendous acts. This barbaric practice degrades society. It should be abolished permanently and completely in this country.

To flick, or to flip? That is the question...

I'm taking a break from the normally lighthearted, petty topics that grace this blog to address a question of much greater consequence. It's an issue of colloquial standard, and one I've never resolved, so I'm posing it to my audience. (That, and I didn't have nearly as much time available to concoct this post as I thought, so it's gotta be kept relatively brief).

Anyway, here goes: When in conversation you're referring to another driver on the road to whom you displayed a profane gesture involving your middle finger, do you say that you "flipped him off" or that you "flicked him off?"

To some, the answer to this may be quite obvious, and if so, I'd like to know. Frankly, I've heard it both ways. People of my parents' generation tend to heavily favor the "flipped" version -- I've discussed this with them, and they're adamant -- but members of younger generations seem on occasion to prefer "flicking" instead. Is this a simple generational gap? Perhaps another example of regional speech pattern as highlighted in my preceding post? Or maybe I'm making this up entirely. That's a distinct possibility.

In any case, I'd like to develop a consensus. Given the gravity of such a question, I'll clearly sleep better at night once I do. What does everyone else think about this?

Disecting dialects

I'm intrigued by the ways in which dialect defines geographic regions. When I was younger, I believed that although people from other parts of the country and world had very distinct speech patterns, mine was nondescript and could never be placed into a specific category. For some reason, it didn't occur to me that anyone who opens his or her mouth has a dialect; there's no such thing as someone who speaks "without an accent," even a plain-spoken Midwesterner.

So I was taken by surprise about ten years ago when I was on vacation with my parents in Maryland. At a restaurant there, a gentleman at a neighboring table came over and politely asked us what part of Chicago we were from. Since we had no idea how he knew that, he explained that he overheard us conversing with a "Chicago accent," characterized by a nasally, drawn out pronounciation of short A's such as "aaa-k-cent" or "cl-aaa-ss." I had never heard of that before, and evidently neither had my parents. We were living in a bubble.

The next time this came up was when I came to college in Iowa, and friends started poking fun at me for the same reason. At first I assumed they mentioned it only because they knew in advance where I was from. But when I was interviewing a native of Iowa City for a newspaper article and he casually mentioned that it sounded as though I was calling him from "right next to Wrigley Field," I knew there was some merit to this assertion. I had lived in northern Illinois for over 18 years, just long enough for the local dialect to become embedded in my speech.

It's curious just how distinctive dialects can be when heard by an outsider. At work, I can immediately tell when I'm speaking on the phone to someone from the Northeast because natives of that region tend to not pronounce Rs, especially at Hahh-vid. And a person calling from northern Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Michigan will talk about how it's cold oot-side, while my relatives from the Appalachian region of Virginia will ask "how y'all doing?" Germany, where I lived for a month in high school, is a country of more than 80 million people with a land area smaller than California. But it has enough distinctive forms of colloquial German that a person from near Berlin may have difficulty understanding a person from south of Munich. The same is true of other small European states like Switzerland, Spain, and Great Britain.

Getting by with a little help from our friends

I know that this can be a difficult time of the year for some people. That's particularly true around the holidays for those who either don't have a family, are alienated from that family, or for some other circumstances beyond their control are alone during a season when there is supposed be an emphasis on time spent together with loved ones.

And for people like myself, this time of year is sometimes hard just because of the darkness. When daylight has faded entirely by 4:30, it can be a challenge to stay energetic. Motivation found in the morning can be quickly replaced in the evening by a desire to simply watch television, surf the Web, or engage in a similar activity that helps cut us off from the world that surrounds us. I've often wondered the best way to counteract the blues of winter, which no doubt is something that affects all of us occasionally.

Maybe the world around us -- and the people who are in it -- is precisely the answer. Faith and spirituality, in my opinion, are very personal, and each person is entitled to come to his or her own conclusions about creation and our place in it. But there's one concept that transcends all of that. It's the idea that human beings were not created to be solitary. We weren't intended to walk through life alone. People are supposed to be together and rely on one another for support when faced with adversity. That sounds completely obvious, of course, but in a society where independence and self-sufficiency are stressed so heavily, it's a message that is easily blurred.

That's why, when I think about blessings, the very first thing that comes to mind are the people. Family and friends who have helped me get through the rough spots and have made the good times even better. The family that has supported me through life and the great people I've met along the way are the ones to whom I owe all of life's fulfillment. If you're reading this, you're probably among them.

I know -- this blog post is sappy and borderline preachy. But it's real.

Making and saving green

One of the most fascinating and effective environmental concepts in urban construction, I believe, is the rooftop garden. Pictured at right is one that was planted on Chicago's City Hall in 2000 and has been a showcase in design ever since.

It's difficult to imagine any major drawbacks to this idea, aside from the costs and planning associated with such a project. But even these factors prove relatively insignificant, given that a green roof pays for itself both financially and environmentally in the long run. Furthermore, the benefits are numerous. Perhaps most obvious is the effect a rooftop garden has on a building's indoor climate control year-round. In the winter, the soil and vegetation act as an insulating layer above the building, reducing heat loss and, by extension, reducing energy bills. In the summer, the sun's hot rays are absorbed before they penetrate the roof, keeping the building's interior cooler, and again, cutting back on energy costs.

The positive attributes of green roofs aren't confined to the buildings on which they sit, either. When it rains, of course, rooftop gardens absorb stormwater, greatly reducing burden on municipal sewage systems. Rain and sun nourish the plants, which in turn produce oxygen that purifies otherwise polluted city air. In the summertime, tar roofs, asphalt streets, and car engines that contribute to the urban island heat effect are mitigated by these gardens, which absorb rather than reflect sunlight. Plus, there's the aesthetic value.

Longtime Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley has pledged to make this city "the greenest in America." I applaud his efforts. When we're talking about global warming, we have to recognize that the world's largest urban centers are the biggest culprits because they produce the most greenhouse gases. Certainly the green roof concept alone won't eliminate this dubious distinction for large cities, but when coupled with other environmentally responsible initiatives, it is a good start. And it would be nice to eventually see an American city where the green roofs outnumber the black ones.