Well, here we go again. I'm starting this entry at 8:55 a.m., sitting in the train station in Pittsburgh, waiting for my train to New York City to pull in. It's already about an hour late. And thought the thought of spending the next eleven hours on a train isn't thrilling to me, I'm really looking forward to getting to New York and settling in. Well, as settled in as a person can get when he's living in a short term sublet and looking for an apartment, that is. But I think you know what I mean.
12:25 p.m.:
So my trip to New York City happens to coincide with deer hunting season in the state of Pennsylvania, and a moment ago, I happened to look out the window as a hunter was digging around in the carcass of the deer he'd just slain. Just as I looked up, he was standing up and shaking his hands off as though they were wet, and then I realized they were covered in the deer's blood. It was kind of a disturbing image, but I'm hardly in a position to give the guy shit for hunting dear, since I'm a big ol' carnivore from way back. I sincerely hope he's hunting that deer for a reason, like he's gonna eat the meat or something... I'm totally against hunting for trophy purposes. I don't understand why a deer has to die just to prove some guy's got a big dick. And while I know that a hunter can survive perfectly well by going to the grocery store to buy his meat, I don't see anything wrong with a guy going out and killing something he intends to eat. Hell, if he has to look the thing in the face before he shoots it, he might think twice about the whole damn thing. Have you ever really looked in a cow's face? I don't eat as much red meat as I used to. Fowl, I'm all for killing and eating... except for maybe ducks, fowl are, to generalize, the most ill-tempered, irritable, irredeemable avian creatures to be found.
How did I get on that rant?
So my last days in Pittsburgh were filled with packing and moving my crap out of Gavan's house, and laundry and packing suitcases for New York City. I ended up missing the opportunity for one last evening out with Patti Kelly last night, 'cuz I couldn't get to the laundry before then. Very disappointing.
One thing I did manage to do was spend two days this week re-working my voice demo reel at Rob Deaner's studio on Mount Washington. Rob, you'll remember (or maybe you won't) is Amy Hartman's husband, and they've got a great recording studio on the third floor of their house. It's a great facility, and I had a wonderful time. I think the demo's gonna sound good, too. Once they're able to put everything we've done together, I'll convert it to mp3 and post it on the website.
During those two days, I stopped each time I got off the Duquesne Incline and snapped a couple of pictures from the top of the mountain. The first one is of Pittsburgh on a pretty overcast day (something that happens, frankly, way too often). The other one is from the same spot the next day, after dusk. I think the night-time picture is probably one of my favorite ever - of the pictures I've taken of Pittsburgh, that is.
Oh, and on Thanksgiving Day, as I was on my way to my sister's house, I managed to snap a picture of one of my favorite childhood sights. The Hornes Department Store Christmas Tree! Hornes went out of business a long time ago, but each successive owner of the building has agreed, apparently, to continue the tradition of putting up the tree. It used to be such a big treat when we were younger to be allowed to climb on the bus and go Christmas shopping in downtown Pittsburgh. I used to love to shop for my mom at Hornes and Kaufmanns department stores. You know, I don't think I ever realized just how damn big that tree was... but seeing it again as an adult just confirms what I thought of it as a child.
1:30 p.m.:
Have I talked about how unnerved I've been at what I've been calling the patriotic hysteria that's run rampant in our country since the attacks of September 11? It's seemed to me, with President Bush declaring "You're either with us, or with the terrorists," that suddenly we're all expected to fall lock-step into line and support everything he does, even when it has nothing to do with the "war on terrorism" or national security. And I've found myself unable to put the correct words to what I'm feeling, because I am genuinely patriotic, but I don't believe that means blindly following the game plan of a man I didn't trust to lead my country in peace time. The idea of the president having control over the economy scared me shitless, and now if I don't like the idea of him having unchallenged authority in a war on terrorism, that makes me unpatriotic?!?
So I've been at a loss for the past few weeks as the whole war thing has ramped up, about how to explain this to people without being attacked. And not long ago I happened to be listening to NPR and heard commentary by a woman named Kate Nelson, who writes for the Albuquerque Tribune. I was so excited by what she said that I immediately wrote to her and asked for a transcript of her comments, which I'm pasting below... it kinda sums up what I'm feeling perfectly.
12:25 p.m.:
So my trip to New York City happens to coincide with deer hunting season in the state of Pennsylvania, and a moment ago, I happened to look out the window as a hunter was digging around in the carcass of the deer he'd just slain. Just as I looked up, he was standing up and shaking his hands off as though they were wet, and then I realized they were covered in the deer's blood. It was kind of a disturbing image, but I'm hardly in a position to give the guy shit for hunting dear, since I'm a big ol' carnivore from way back. I sincerely hope he's hunting that deer for a reason, like he's gonna eat the meat or something... I'm totally against hunting for trophy purposes. I don't understand why a deer has to die just to prove some guy's got a big dick. And while I know that a hunter can survive perfectly well by going to the grocery store to buy his meat, I don't see anything wrong with a guy going out and killing something he intends to eat. Hell, if he has to look the thing in the face before he shoots it, he might think twice about the whole damn thing. Have you ever really looked in a cow's face? I don't eat as much red meat as I used to. Fowl, I'm all for killing and eating... except for maybe ducks, fowl are, to generalize, the most ill-tempered, irritable, irredeemable avian creatures to be found.
How did I get on that rant?
So my last days in Pittsburgh were filled with packing and moving my crap out of Gavan's house, and laundry and packing suitcases for New York City. I ended up missing the opportunity for one last evening out with Patti Kelly last night, 'cuz I couldn't get to the laundry before then. Very disappointing.One thing I did manage to do was spend two days this week re-working my voice demo reel at Rob Deaner's studio on Mount Washington. Rob, you'll remember (or maybe you won't) is Amy Hartman's husband, and they've got a great recording studio on the third floor of their house. It's a great facility, and I had a wonderful time. I think the demo's gonna sound good, too. Once they're able to put everything we've done together, I'll convert it to mp3 and post it on the website.
During those two days, I stopped each time I got off the Duquesne Incline and snapped a couple of pictures from the top of the mountain. The first one is of Pittsburgh on a pretty overcast day (something that happens, frankly, way too often). The other one is from the same spot the next day, after dusk. I think the night-time picture is probably one of my favorite ever - of the pictures I've taken of Pittsburgh, that is.Oh, and on Thanksgiving Day, as I was on my way to my sister's house, I managed to snap a picture of one of my favorite childhood sights. The Hornes Department Store Christmas Tree! Hornes went out of business a long time ago, but each successive owner of the building has agreed, apparently, to continue the tradition of putting up the tree. It used to be such a big treat when we were younger to be allowed to climb on the bus and go Christmas shopping in downtown Pittsburgh. I used to love to shop for my mom at Hornes and Kaufmanns department stores. You know, I don't think I ever realized just how damn big that tree was... but seeing it again as an adult just confirms what I thought of it as a child.1:30 p.m.:
Have I talked about how unnerved I've been at what I've been calling the patriotic hysteria that's run rampant in our country since the attacks of September 11? It's seemed to me, with President Bush declaring "You're either with us, or with the terrorists," that suddenly we're all expected to fall lock-step into line and support everything he does, even when it has nothing to do with the "war on terrorism" or national security. And I've found myself unable to put the correct words to what I'm feeling, because I am genuinely patriotic, but I don't believe that means blindly following the game plan of a man I didn't trust to lead my country in peace time. The idea of the president having control over the economy scared me shitless, and now if I don't like the idea of him having unchallenged authority in a war on terrorism, that makes me unpatriotic?!?
So I've been at a loss for the past few weeks as the whole war thing has ramped up, about how to explain this to people without being attacked. And not long ago I happened to be listening to NPR and heard commentary by a woman named Kate Nelson, who writes for the Albuquerque Tribune. I was so excited by what she said that I immediately wrote to her and asked for a transcript of her comments, which I'm pasting below... it kinda sums up what I'm feeling perfectly.
Are you with us or against us? Do you support the economic-stimulus package or would you cripple an economy at war? Do you back the USA Patriot bill or are you sheltering terrorists in your basement? Yeah, we're united. If you don't agree, can you really be a patriot yourself?
Consider it the ultimate fruit of talk radio. He who shouts loudest wins. And all hope withers that a diverse nation can discuss its way past the black and white into the shades of gray. It isn't limited to national affairs.
Earlier this month, New Mexico executed its first inmate in 41 years. In response to the most drastic act of a so-called corrections system, death-penalty supporters and opponents gouged out a rhetorical chasm. I sided with the opponents. But I still couldn't find a shred of sympathy for the inmate, who had kidnapped, raped and killed a 9-year-old girl.
But the supporters did little to win me over. Talk radio became their haven. Some callers offered to be the executioner. Another day, they debated whether God would let the condemned man into heaven. "Hmmmm," I imagined God saying. "Rachel in Las Cruces says `Fry the S.O.B.,' but John in Roswell says `Let him rot in prison.'"
We journalists hardly help. Too often, we pair the person who demands "no" with the person who shrieks "yes" and avoid the people who say "I don't know." They're just too gray.
That's a failing of a democratic ideal, and in this time of war with terrorism, it's hardening into a national gag rule. If reasonable people cannot disagree reasonably, then let's not let people disagree.
Let's be unified.
The older I get, the more convinced I am that there are no right answers, no wrong answers, no black, no white. We live in a swirl of grays, of ever-changing events and uncertain solutions. I don't know if we can find a better way to avenge the murders of thousands of innocent Americans. I don't know if we can find a better way to punish the worst criminals.
I do know that we won't find out unless we hear all those people who decline to join the verbal version of American Gladiator. Listen, there is a new and silent majority among us. And it shouldn't have to beg to differ.
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