Skateboarders are Great Americans (and other reflections on current media)
December 30th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
1.
Thanks to the Times, we learn that skateboarders in California are newly responsible for some great civic contributions. This winter they’ve been cleaning out the abandoned swimming pools of foreclosed houses, refusing to add graffiti or trash while they’re trespassing, and they even only skate for short periods during the day to avoid disturbing neighbors. How considerate!
But here’s the real story, revealed in the third paragraph:
Across the nation, the ultimate symbol of suburban success has become one more reminder of the economic meltdown, with builders going under, pools going to seed and skaters finding a surplus of deserted pools in which to perfect their acrobatic aerials.
Unfortunately for thrill-seeking readers, most of the article is about that stuff, or actually even more boring stuff. We learn about pool builders in Phoenix and fines for homeowners who leave standing water in their pools — things related neither to skateboarding nor the economic meltdown, as if people are reading the article because they just love pools.
The article’s kind of cool overall, and it’s helped out by some choice quotes – “God bless Greenspan,” the post [on skateandannoy.com] read, “patron saint of pool skatin’.” — but it drifts from the good stuff. It should focus on the skateboarders, both because they’re the most fun part of the article and because simply recording the color of their hobby right now will tell the economic story most vividly. Strengths and weaknesses aside, this article also highlights the inherent limitations of print journalism and written storytelling. This isn’t a story to be written; although the article is accompanied by a slide show, we need to see action and panoramas. We need video: we need to see the skateboarders moving, not just through pools but among them, hitting pool after pool and wandering newly abandoned neighborhoods. Let’s see those foreclosed homes, not just read about them. New media, where are you?
2.
The Post tells us that Virginia Senator Jim Webb is set to introduce legislation to “reform” our prison system. As a citizen long interested in the subject, and as a current employee (sort of — well, not really, but more on this later) of the correctional system of the State of Connecticut, I’m personally invested in this topic. Too bad for interested readers, the article doesn’t hint at how Webb envisions this reform, or even whether he’s gotten that far. What we get instead is that Webb thinks we have too many people in prison (as everyone agrees) and quote after quote from people skeptical to critical of his forthcoming effort, rebutted only by assertions of Webb’s fortitude and maverickyness. Get ready for a showdown! But don’t hold your breath for meaningful reform. If there’s any on the way, this article won’t help shed light on it.
3.
Popular sportswriting often approaches oxymoron territory: it’s writing only in the technical sense of involving letters, words, and sentences in a single language. The “writers” for MLB.com and its daughter sites devoted to the individual teams are as guilty as any others of this butchery. But I was positively struck by this lede in an article today:
Whatever interest the Mets might have had in diminished center fielder Andruw Jones had a rather short shelf life.
The “rather” could have gone, but the sentence is informative, descriptive, and even poignant. It evokes some humanity deeper than that commonly found in front offices. Just from this sentence, I feel for Jones and even the Mets, though I don’t know why. I could be alone on this.
4.
Yeah, I always saw the Fall of Bush this way. Cool to know I agree with him and his people on something. Plus those are some sweet quotes. Props to Vanity Fair.
5.
This is now a week old, and, like Josh Marshall, I’m hesitant to cite Tom Friedman positively in the blogosphere, but give credit where credit’s due. Or at least acknowledge that which you dig. And I dig this recent column. I think Friedman’s right on the money. Don’t expect me to say that again soon.
A tree grows in Brooklyn
December 30th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
One day soon after I came home from my freshman year at college, I printed out several dozen copies of my résumé and, with a supportive friend, went up and down 7th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I walked up and down a ten-block stretch of the avenue for half an hour before I had the courage to enter a store and tell them I was looking for a job for the summer. I became more comfortable with the routine as I repeated it many times that afternoon, but it wasn’t made easy by the businesses I was approaching: restaurants (or diners or cafés) and real estate offices. I lacked any appropriate experience, and I resisted looking at my résumé all day to avoid reminding myself of the ridiculousness in applying to barista jobs on the back of my position as features editor of The Yale Globalist.
That evening I came home to find an email from Kroll, the one place I had previously interviewed for a job. The email included an offer for a paid internship, and I took it, thus ending my fruitless search for jobs in Park Slope. Though I didn’t need to receive any more job offers, that I never did left my ego with a minor bruise and drove home that I had been unqualified for the jobs I had asked for that day in Brooklyn — that I was more underqualified than overqualified.
At Kroll, I had a great internship. I was paid well, walked six blocks to work, came and went largely without supervision, and enjoyed my own half-office with no one looking over my shoulder and no one even able to see my desk without entering the room I occupied. I worked on various projects over the summer, some of which took only a morning to complete, others which required a full week of work. I learned what I was supposed to learn on the job, both in skills and business know-how, and mostly enjoyed myself while getting paid. Plus, when I wasn’t given work — often — I read all I wanted on the internet and even managed a lot of writing. That summer was the most productive period for an autobiographical project I worked on for most of 2007, which led me to record everything I did all day long, in as much detail as I could. With several hours at a computer and no assigned tasks to complete most days, I devoted many hours that summer to a complete personal account, recording everything from navel-gazing and banal daily routines to thorough and thoughtful written self-reflection. The month of July 2007 is now saved forever as forty-five single-spaced pages in a Word document. I also spent a lot of time on Wikipedia, and I learned all I wanted to about whatever I wanted to.
Today, walking along St. John’s Place, just off 7th Avenue in Park Slope, I saw a tree that made me cross the street to see it better. Seven or eight feet above the ground, a single thick branch grew horizontally outward, at a perfect right angle from the trunk. And extending above that branch, also at right angles, were five smaller branches growing straight upward. There was no way this tree grew naturally; it must have been shaped as it grew, though how it could have been shaped while planted on the sidewalk I couldn’t figure, and how or why one would have transported such a tree to its current location I couldn’t guess. Regardless, it brought back a good memory, that of a discovery I made during one of my many hours on Wikipedia two summers ago. I’m still in love with arborsculpture, and I’d still love to have a tree home one day.
Groundbreaking Analysis of the World of Sports
December 29th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
I recently sent this to a few friends, and I figured: Why not make it available to everyone? So here are my collected sports columns for Hunter College High School’s The Observer, written (semi-)monthly between June 2003 and June 2006, from the end of ninth grade to shortly before I graduated from the school. Reading the columns now, I cringe at lots of what I wrote, mainly at the sentences that are at once bludgeoned and bludgeoning, more awkward than clever, and the dead jokes that ended up in print even though I knew at the time their humor didn’t work outside my head. But there’s some gold there, a little of it actually funny, and more that’s great to have saved in writing if only to see who I once was. Anyway, the interested can download the columns in a Word document by clicking here. These are my earliest published pieces, and for years the only works I wrote publicly. This is where it, and I, began. I’ll reflect more on the columns in the future.
Faces of Central Park
December 23rd, 2008 § Leave a Comment
It snowed today in the city
December 19th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
I was out with my sister and my camera, to see and capture the spectacle.
As always, there were characters.
Check out more photos here.
Anarchy
December 7th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
What do Canada and Somalia have in common? Very soon, each could be without a government. Well, sort of. These have been a couple of my favorite stories recently, and the Times article on Somalia is one of the most interesting articles I can remember reading. How are we supposed to believe this stuff is real?
Recommendation and lesson
December 7th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
I try not to use this space to advertise very often, but occasionally I’m moved to recommend something just because it is so good. The Reuters photography blog is one such item.
The blog is two things at once. It is an ongoing lesson in photography that is written, it seems, for people exactly like me: amateurs who are looking to get better, and looking to learn about visual news as much as photography. And it is an ever-evolving story of a life that is as fascinating as I can imagine. The blog’s contributors are people who love to see and convey the world, and who are not interested in or moved by the pretty nearly as much as they are by the profound.
The most recent post, “Death all around,” by Finbarr O’Reilly, is as powerful as any I’ve seen on the blog since I started reading it at the end of the summer. The photos and story come from a Congolese refugee camp. It doesn’t deserve a description, only a recommendation: read it for yourself. But one sentence struck me hard, and is worth pulling out:
There’s no joy getting a good picture from a baby’s funeral.
How much is built into those eleven words? How perfectly does such a short sentence convey the passion of a man’s occupation and the humanity that in this moment overwhelms it? How universal is the sentiment he expresses, even to those who have never worked to get a good picture, or to the millions of us who have so thankfully never had to attend a baby’s funeral.
I hope to one day be able to take pictures like the ones on this blog. I hope to be able to write about my experiences as the photographers do. I read the blog for the artistic lessons it teaches. But, more importantly, I read for its lessons about the life of a photographer: these can be your experiences — if you want them, if you can handle them, if you can capture them.




