Visiting D.C.

This is a post I began a while ago...I have so much other subject material to update: the 4th graders, grad school, political commentary, etc.

So, here's about my DC trip back in January (since then other things have happened, too).

Please refer to the post below, where I mention that I never won a match in Call of Duty 4. I won at least three matches when Jonathan and I came to Washington, D.C. for MLK weekend. Practice makes perfect :). I had a great time, yet again, playing video games, gorging myself at an all-you-can-eat Brazilian steakhouse, learning about parking garages, the European exploration of the early Americas, and visiting a Franciscan monastery.

I have to say, it's pretty cool that my younger brother has a place of his own (along with two roommates), a job, etc. It's also hard to believe and makes me feel old.

My memory about the rest of the weekend is pretty fuzzy...except for watching the Hangover, which is hilarious.

The Real World

So, I haven't written anything in the last two months. I have been busy recuperating and cleaning up from getting fired (from a volunteer job, no less) and applying to graduate school programs in religion.

Contrary to John Mayer's assertions, the real world does exist, and I strongly prefer my imaginary world. In my imaginary world, at least the villains are methodically evil and tell people what they want. Most fictional villains I know of give their victims ultimatums with dates, times, and other helpful specifications, e.g. give me $1,000,000 by midnight tomorrow or else I will ____. Rare is the villain who says to the cowering populace, "maybe do something like this some time, but wait for me to get back to you," detonating a bomb at City Hall the next day saying "you didn't meet my expectations." Or who demands their victims do something one way one week and another way the next. Perhaps the only thing fictional and real villains have in common is that they ask rhetorical questions or otherwise speak extraneously. One of my favorite movies, The Incredibles, depicts a villain commenting on the tendency for the archetypal villain to monologue.

In my tour of the real world, I haven't met a single villain who would exist in my (or any movie director's) imaginary world; however, such characters might exist as objects of comedy. Ask any experimental economist and you will hear that people usually do not behave according to theory.

I would be remiss not to learn anything from a failed employer-employee relationship. Living with seven other people puts my idiosyncrasies, life habits, work habits, and general preferences into relief, as does working somewhere unlike any place I've worked before. I learn more about myself and others that way; such things are costly investments with high returns for self-knowledge. Kind of like school, except a different subject. Of course, at some point I hope to apply that knowledge and stop paying for more of it.

Some of the lessons are obvious ones, like you can't always have it your way, there are trade-offs in life, etc. No matter where I go or what I do, I'll have to face villains of one sort or another. Sometimes the lessons are the same ones I've known for a long time but without appreciating their importance, such as how I like to work, what interests me, and what I value. The coolest lessons, though, teach me to like something new, like chocolate, my brothers, team sports (thanks to corporate softball and volleyball), contemplative prayer, social gatherings, or something other than classical music and oldies.

My Brothers Come to Town

For those of you unaware, my brothers came to town last weekend. We had quite a blast of course (literally, in fact; well, virtually). Most of our down time, i.e. when we were not sleeping, eating, or mountain biking, was spent in close-quarters warfare. Call of Duty 4 offers about 10 different venues for shooting, blowing-up, or if you're me, lying in wait in a corner either to be sniped away or to score a surprise kill. Some other rookie tactics of mine include trying to jump over bullets, army-crawling all over the map, and dropping grenades as I die. I never won a match.

Even if I suffered defeat and humiliation on the television, I felt a little more confident on the singletrack trails just north of my house, where Robbie, Jonathan, and I biked. It was a beautiful day. After settling into our saddles, we had a reasonably adventurous and daring time hopping logs and rocks, dodging trees, etc. While all of us suffered some injuries, I think Robbie's scrapes and bruises from his regular launches over his handlebars were the most spectacular. All three of us called out obstacles that we had climbed, or that had felled us, declaring victory or warning the others, respectively. A great time, altogether, although none of us could ever shake the feeling that we were headed the wrong direction on the trails...

Needless to say, we had plenty to eat. In addition to trying out the Q Shack, Mapleview Farm's ice cream, and a couple brunch locations, we visited Outback Steakhouse on Saturday night after biking (and after having lunch around 4). We had to wait a while for our table (by the way, Jonathan, can you get me that puzzle program for my iTouch?), but it was all business after sitting down. Our waitress took our drink orders, then asked whether we wanted to "start with a bloomin' onion." The brothers and I: "Um, no, but we'd like three shrimps on the barbie, please." A bloomin' onion? Only one? She then brought us a demi-baguette (not really the right word for the place) of pumpernickel. Jonathan graciously cut it into three pieces, and we scarfed it down in a minute. The waitress returned and, after we asked for more bread, said, "Oh, that was dumb of me to only bring one." She came right back with two more loaves.

Thanks Robbie and Jonathan. It was fun, in addition to being a great man-fix of meat, the outdoors, and video games (not the usual fare at the JIP house in Carrboro).

My Town

The joke among most people who live outside of Carrboro, NC, or the few dissidents within, is that I live in a town called "The People's Republic of Carrboro." It might be hyperbole; I've met many people enchanted by Marx, but few by Mao. To provide an illustration and let you judge for yourself, here is an account of my daily trip to work. I live in the middle of Carrboro and walk less than a quarter mile to work every day. After walking by a few old mill-town houses, I come upon Weaver Street, where I work. I pass the following business: two spas, an acupuncturist, a massage therapist, the Balanced Movement yoga studio, the Dispute Resolution Center, the Wellness Alliance, which is a house converted to hold another acupuncturist, a craniosacral therapist, a homeopath, a psychotherapist, among more psychologists and masseuses. Admittedly, I also pass a smattering of more conventional businesses, e.g. Great Clips and the Carrboro Citizen newspaper (wait until you read it, though).

I will note that Carrboro has another nickname, "The Paris of the Piedmont."

I can't say that I mind living in such a free-spirited place; I have access to great food, good coffee shops, and kind neighbors--who may not know that I have a different sense of our "comradeship." It's quiet at night and people ride bikes and jog everywhere.

If you have any good stories or questions about Carrboro, I would like to hear them.

Inaugural Post

I have been vacillating (and procrastinating) for a while about whether to start a blog. Reasons not to blog include: it seems presumptuous to act like people care to read all about me; it takes time; and I risk offending someone or writing more about someone or some organization than they would prefer that I share. Reasons to blog include: I can update many people about my life and thoughts and I can have a soapbox. Obviously I've chosen to blog, so please let me know whether you have any problems with what I write. I hope to have links and more interesting posts soon.