Fumbling for Words

Have you ever simultaneously had the breath knocked out of you and the pain of the world knocked into you? That somewhat explains what happened to me last November. Despite the leaps of progress for women after centuries of denial of opportunities, and after getting to a breaking point with many tragic humanitarian issues in the country, a huge portion of the U.S. decided they didn't care about other people. One person really hurt me by saying, "It's not like someone died," but to me, it felt like an expansive death sentence or at the very least a huge, selfish, "We utterly don't care about you" directed at millions of people that would result in harmful policy and ongoing discrimination and tragedy. I didn't just feel my own pain; I felt the weight of widespread devastation. And what can one say when they can't breathe and they've been told their voice doesn't matter?

I'm amazed that despite the heavy burden of constant terrible news over the last year, many people have been able to process quickly and get enough breath to raise strong voices in opposition. I'm just now starting to feel like I can feel around in the dark for my voice, but only because I've been guiltily using my privilege to mute a lot of the constant influx of bad news. All I've been able to do for the last year is focus my energy on building a program that empowers people who have even fewer privileges under the current administration. It's so, so hard, but I care so, so much about this important cause.

Northwest Trip 2011

I've been wanting to visit the Portland/Seattle/Vancouver corner of North America for quite some time, and I'm glad to say that I finally did so!


Day 1: Michael and I got ready to leave Fremont, excited that our National Park annual pass had arrived, but flustered to discover that my passport was nowhere to be found. Some quick online research inspired me to call my parents and ask them to express my birth certificate to a destination a couple of days down the road. We made it to Klamath Falls, Oregon, where we first experienced non-self-serve gas. Unfortunately, the nearby campground was closed. We pulled into a church parking lot and slept in the car.

Day 2: Crater Lake was only a short drive away and it dazzled us with its beauty. We continued on through beautiful country (while listening to the book on CD of Pratchett's Nation) to Mt. Hood, where most campsites were closed for the winter. We found one that wasn't monitored, but still open, and set up camp away from the two other campers. After I read about flooding that happened there many years ago and told Michael about it, he became scared that we will be swept away in a flood, which makes me laugh.


Crater Lake


Day 3: We drove through even more ooh and aah country, filled with trees and hills and lakes. On the way to a town in the middle of nowhere that I insisted upon visiting, we had a lady at a gas station say "oh cute" to us and we got pulled over (the officer was nice enough to tell us just to slow down). We arrived at Leavensworth, Washington, a town built to resemble southern Germany. We enjoyed some rouladen, Jägerschnitzel, and spätzle--which hilariously wasn't pronounced correctly by the dirndle-wearing waitress. We also visited a bakery, a chocolate store, and an enormous Christmas store--which hilariously only had one single Schwippbogen in the entire place. We continued on to Seattle, where we spotted a zillion lawnmowers in the area called Fremont. Unfortunately, everything was closed when we arrived, but we saw the outside of most of my listed desinations, including the Space Needle, the shiny and colorful Experience Music Project Gehry building, the sculpture garden, and Pike Place Market. We picked up something resembling Döners, remarked at every lonely yuppie we saw walking through the city with a small dog, and took off for my friend Crystal's grandma's house, an hour and a half north. After almost hitting a small white dog in the street and pausing to have a discussion, we chatted for ages with Crystal's grandma and aunt, only to find out that the white dog was theirs.


Leavensworth, WA


Gehry EMP Building, Seattle


Olympic Sculpture Park, Seattle


Day 4: The day started with rain and us making crepes for our three hosts. After breakfast, I helped Crystal's grandma use her new iMac to print photos of Crystal. We got a tour of the property, which has been cleverly and frugally built up out of garage sale finds. After spending a frustrating amount of time talking on the phone and using a nearby library's wifi to take care of mostly non-vacation items (where a man who was leaving started singing "One Enchanted Evening" to us as he passed by), we successfully crossed the border into Canada even though the officer who questioned us seemed confused at the fact that we would be staying with someone we'd never met. Once again, we arrived too late to see most destinations on our list, but nevertheless visited the grounds of a garden, the art museum (which was flooded with Occupationists), the library, an Inuit art gallery, and several hip neighborhoods. After splitting a bento box, we visited the divine-pizza-smelling-Granville Island neighborhood, gawked at lovely houses on our way to a beach that looked across the water to downtown Vancouver, and drove up to Grouse Mountain. I saw people looking at something moving behind some trees and approach, fascinated, to discover amazingly large wolves separated from us by a fence. Finally, we continued on to meet our generous hostess and her fiance. We marveled at the IKEA-inspired apartment and laughed about the eternity it took to blow up my mattress when I put the pump into the wrong hole.


Bellingham, WA


Occupation in Vancouver, BC, Canada


Vancouver at night


Wolves on Grouse Mountain


IKEA in real life


Day 5: We attended the church on the Vancouver templegrounds, and, since we had nowhere better to heat up some ramen on a small borrowed camping propane tank, set up lunch at the picnic tables to the side of the temple parking lot. Although we had planned to continue on to Victoria, we followed the suggestion of a ward member to visit the Golden Ears Park. We found a campsite among huge, old-growth trees, and made our way down to a thin beach accompanying a gorgeous landscape: pristine Alouette Lake accented by tree-covered mountains and clear skies. As it got darker, I purposely left off the flashlight so that we could enjoy the stars as I learned to count from 0-10 in Mandarin. The only thing that reminded us that we weren't far from Vancouver was the planes that flew overhead now and then.


Lunch after church at the Vancouver Temple


Golden Ears Provincial Park


Believe it or not, there wasn't much light for this photo--oh the joys of long exposure shots!


Day 6: After hiking out onto a sandstrip in Alouette Lake, we drove back to civilization to catch up on some emails, then took the ferry to Victoria. As seemed to be the pattern, upon arriving in Victoria, we found all of our touristy destinations closed. When we discovered that the ferry to Washington only leaves twice a day, we decided to stay to go whale-watching the next day and enjoyed dinner at a fabulous pizza place. Our campsite was one of the nicest we'd been to, with isolated campsites and a very clean, heated bathroom.


Alouette Lake, Canada


Alouette Lake, Canada


Day 7: In the morning, a campground ranger came by to pick up our money and as we drove away, we guiltily read scriptures about being servants to the devil--we'd sealed the envelope with American dollars in it, having never withdrawn Canadian currency. The gardens Michael jubilantly drove over hilly, curved roads to were way more expensive than they were worth, so we turned around and headed to downtown Victoria. Though the whale-watching companies claim they'll put together tours as needed, the low amount of tourists in October made them limit their first tour to noon, which would make us get back too late to get on the ferry. The museum also seemed more expensive than it was worth, so we walked to artist and author Emily Carr's house (which we could only look at from the outside), visited the Undersea Gardens where we saw a scuba diver hold up crabs and fish and an octopus, and then went to check out the famous "tea time" at a grand-looking hotel that dominates the harbor. When told that tea was 48 Canadian dollars per person, we opted out and instead ate at a posh seafood restaurant. The ferry officer informed us that our box of Costco oranges would have to go and so Michael kindly donated them to the local guys at the check-in booth. Washington greeted us with a confusion of one-way streets and even a glimpse of a store dedicated completely to Twilight paraphernalia (no, we didn't stop). While Michael drove, I revised our trip, cutting out several small cities and searching for a still-open campsite near Mt. Rainier though Michael's service kept cutting out. Finally, I called an RV place and asked if we could set up our tent there. We arrived at what looked like a white-trash dead end, where Michael informed me that we couldn't get out of the car because there was "a dog out there." "Where?" I asked incredulously, after looking around. "Right there!" he said, his head pulled back and hesitant. "Can't you see the ears?" Finally, I looked down from his driver's side window and saw a friendly mutt panting at us. "He's a nice doggy," I said, and opened my own door, offering a gently-closed fist while whistling. "See?" I asked, as he silently but excitedly sniffed at my hand. After telling us that the dog's name was Bentley, the lady in the white trailer who had answered my phone call took our ten dollars and showed us where we could set up our tent. I wanted to be away from the road and in the dark, but Michael wanted to be by the streetlight. We compromised by putting the tent behind the car--lucky, because I felt very sick in the middle of the night and ended up sleeping in the car with one hand on the door handle. (I also accidentally set off the car alarm at 3 in the morning, oops.)


Victoria, Canada


Day 8: In the morning, we were pleasantly surprised to find that we could see the entrance to Mt. Rainier National Park from our tent. Though the air was freezing, even with fleece pants over my jeans and three jackets/coats on, the mountain was absolutely beautiful, so I made oatmeal while Michael took pictures. A ranger pointed out a rare fox to us. Our next destination, Mt. St. Helens, was reached by way of small logging towns. We were glad we skipped the visitor's center to the volcano, which is miles and miles from the volcano. Johnston Ridge, on the other hand, boasts an observatory with personal accounts of the day of the blast, models, a documentary, and a view straight up the collapsed side, where lava domes are still forming today. Once again, we put aside our embarrassment and made ramen in a parking lot. Then we headed to Astoria, Oregon, to see a column overlooking the bay. For the first time since starting the trip, we were shocked to not be able to find a Starbucks, since they'd been the source of our internet connection and bathrooms at every stop. I suggested we stop at a Mormon church, and sure enough, a Halloween party was going on. While Michael had his appointment with Mother Nature, I complimented costumes while avoiding conversation with adults and ate a cupcake decorated to be like a ghost. Then we stealthily slipped away to have clam chowder and a sandwich at a restaurant in Seaside. Once again, finding a campsite was difficult. Our original goal had a sign up that said, "No tents." The next place I called said they were closing in three minutes, and when I told them our location, they said it'd take us fifteen minutes and didn't offer to wait. We found a KOA about twenty minutes away. As I hurriedly set up the tent, Michael repeatedly shone his light into the trees behind our site. "There are eyes over there!" he said, scared. "What? Eyes?" I glanced over to where his flashlight shone and saw nothing. "Look!" he repeated. Finally, the third time, I saw what he meant. "They're getting closer!" he insisted as I shook my head. Suddenly, an animal lumbered out of the bushes. "It's a raccoon," I said. "It's coming towards us. Do raccoons attack?" he asked, nervously. "Not unless provoked. And I think you're annoying it by shining that light on it." I had no qualms about sleeping twenty feet away from a bunch of raccoons, but Michael couldn't forget about them and asked me more questions. "They like shiny things," I said. "And they're nocturnal. They don't really do anything to humans, so stop worrying."


Mt. Rainier


The cold dance that appears after posing for a lot of pictures

Mt. St. Helens from Johnston Ridge


Day 9: Though I slept well, Michael apparently dreamt that a raccoon slashed through the tent with its claws. We marveled at all the amenities KOA offers, but had no time to enjoy them. At Cannon Beach, I was careful not to get my recovering-from-ingrown-toenail-surgery toes wet, but as I ran towards a plethora of birds, I got sand in my toes. Upon arriving in Portland, we found a restaurant on Yelp and had a delicious tuna sandwich with soup and then a piece of blueberry pie served up by a lovely, quirky woman, who gave us a free peanut butter cookie on the way out. We toured the Pittock Mansion, drove through the Alberta Arts and Pearl Districts, and randomly found a store that I feel like must have been featured on one of the many design blogs I read: Noun: A Person's Place for Things. It was full of lovely items and I wished that my mom and sister could have been there. We enjoyed looking at the charming Belmont/Sunnyside area houses, laughed at the hippy places we saw (I even saw a billboard that I unfortunately didn't get a picture of: "End petlessness!"), saw the entire Portland Art Museum in an hour, ate some of the best sushi I've ever had for dinner, and visited the Portland Temple. Finally, we drove an hour south to reach a KOA, where this time there were bunnies hopping around--more Michael's style.






Day 10: We started out the day by buying a toothbrush and hydrogen peroxide, and then Michael, in an act of purely selfless charity, scrubbed the sand out of my toe wounds. We got off the freeway to find a few covered bridges, then got right back on to head back out to the coast. When we stopped for lunch in Charleston/Coos Bay, it took us a while to find a place that didn't look kind of iffy. If you like antiques, head there. We wandered through enormous warehouse-sized antique stores and drove past what seemed like hundreds of them after finding tomato bisque and a panini at a Christian cafe. We stopped for some Oregon jam and then again every ten minutes once we reached the road that offers amazing views of the coast (starting at Port Orford). Upon reaching the national park campground near Crescent City, we read a sign saying, "This is bear country. By law, you are required to have bear-safe food containers." When we saw the prices for camping there, we decided to try a nearby KOA, where we were both relieved to see nothing about bears upon checking in.





Day 11: This morning, we left the earliest we had and drove through huge redwood forests to get back to Oregon. The lodge by the Oregon Caves Monument was nestled in a most picturesque place surrounded by fall colors. I even felt sorry for people who had only ever been there in summer. A geologist named Derek gave four of us a 1.5-hour tour of the cave. I was surprised to get really great answers to the many questions I asked while Michael took pictures with the last camera with remaining battery life--his iPhone. Then on to Berkeley for dinner at Cioccolata Di Vino. (AMAZING.)








I tend to take pictures of things that remind me of people I know, so look through the entire album for those.

Oh, and this little illegal immigrant (we named him Alouette and then switched to Pierre) hitched a ride with us from British Columbia all the way to California, where he hopefully found a new home somewhere in Michael's front yard:

Your Footprint

I just took this human footprint quiz. Twice. First, I entered the typical answers for my time living in the U.S. Then, I entered in answers about how I live in Germany. Although Americans are obviously going to lose here, keep in mind that if I had lived on my own in the U.S., I could have been making different decisions about my footprint, whereas living with parents means that their footprint is yours.

My American footprint (living at home): if everyone in the world lived this way, we would need 4.6 planets and I would personally need 20.6 acres to take care of me.

My German footprint: if everyone in the world lived this way, we would need 2 planets and I would personally need 9 acres.

Take the quiz. And see what you can improve on.

Bureaucracy and Berlin

Oh, and one more thing: I had to make a scramble to Berlin on Wednesday to get a new passport because I can't get a new student visa until I have a new passport and if I didn't hurry, I wouldn't have it on time for my trip on the 28th. Yikes.

Here's the amazing thing. It was a good experience, paper work and all. The people there were friendly and helpful, including security. I wasn't sighed at or sent away because I didn't have everything (like stamps). The man at the window took my money to the cashier for me, got change so I could buy stamps, and, get this, my newly-taken passport picture wasn't the right size though I had them taken at a passport booth, but the nice man TOOK IT ANYWAY, SAYING HE COULD PUT ANOTHER PIECE OF PAPER BEHIND IT! Are you kidding me? Then, to top it all off, he said it would take about two weeks (WOW!), but he wrote a special note on the application about when I would be traveling just so they would hurry.

I was in and out of there within thirty minutes. American bureaucracy wins this time, hands down.

And, just to keep you entertained, when I was done, I saw a few things in Berlin. However, I forgot my camera (a tragedy, really, I loved the repeated forms at the memorial). So here are some pics from Google images.

Potsdamer Platz has cool architecture (throat clear, Tanya) and a piece of the wall with some explanations and pictures posted on them (you can see it in the lower right-hand corner). I get teary-eyed every time I see pictures of people jumping out of their windows to get to the west when the wall was being built. There's something about having to flee your home, a place that is supposed to be your sanctuary, that gets to me.












The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is made up of big rectangular blocks that get taller and taller until you are engulfed, with a hilly base made up of individual cobblestones.
Wikipedia claims the artist didn't use any symbolism. I beg to differ. The ground being hilly makes it unsure, like the course of politics during the holocaust. And though you start out being able to see the big picture, you soon become enveloped by the blocks. You are unable to see around the corners (I even ran into someone) and it becomes one continuous, darkened state (interpret that how you will, I think it's obvious):



































Here's what a regular Döner meat cooker looks like:









Here's the Balli Döner famous to all Berlin Germany missionaries (in case you can't tell, that thing is enormous):














The meat was perfectly seasoned and the garlic sauce was amazing. If you're ever in Berlin, make it to Lichterfeld Ost.

P.S. You still have time to guess which songs are on my roommate's American CD.

American Classics

So my roommate came home from being a camp counselor in America this summer and is now annoyingly extremely enthusiastic about America. Some new things that have showed up since then have been

-Obama stickers
-the discovery of playing music loud (WHY OH WHY?)
-shirts, pants, and posters of American universities
-putting CDs on repeat
-American radio classics

So, here's the challenge. What songs are on the CD that I doubt I'll ever hear the end of?

Update:

Free falling
That's me in the corner
Live-Overcome
Summer of 69

How Many Stripes on the American Flag?

Dad, did you see this? If you want to enlarge the picture, click on this.

Flag Stamp Gets Extra Stripe

The stamp on the right has an extra stripe.

All Things Considered, August 9, 2008 · Back in 1818, the American flag had 13 broad stripes and 20 bright stars. Since then, the flag has added 30 stars but not a single stripe — until now. In a new stamp issued by the U.S. Postal Service, the flag appears to have 14 stripes. Stamp artist Laura Stutzman explains what went wrong.

Utah Trip, Post-Wedding

The last week in Utah flew by!

I spent a lot of time:
-cleaning Johnya's apartment and car.
-researching PhD programs.
-adding music to my computer.
-calling Best Buy about my camera.
-trying to watch episodes of The Office.
-with Scott (talking, going to his cabin, running errands, etc.).
-eating yummy food.
-getting frustrated about my wrist.
-at Egg Products (one day) answering phone calls.
-playing Perudo with Heidi (I love that game).
-visiting with friends (Kelli, Jessie, people from the ward, librarians, Tiffany, etc.)
-trying to re-download PAF on the family computer.
-ripping down the fort.
-watching movies (I have to suggest The Tunnel to everyone. It was so awesome!).
-jogging with the dogs and doing tae-bo.
-looking for my "wallet," which I eventually found.

I don't think I'll be back again for a long, long time, so I hope I didn't miss anything desperate.

I'm Proud to be an American

I am missing the 4th of July. Not just "missing" as in "I'm not there," but really "missing" as in, "I wish I were there." I already realized that I didn't get to blast play the Star Spangled Banner on the organ this year, but the actually holiday is even harder to miss. I think I've mentioned it before--the 4th of July is my favorite holiday (yep, I mentioned it here and here last year). With sunshine, family, Big Cottonwood Canyon, A1 and steak for breakfast, chocolate milk, collecting candy, throwing the candy at people who accidentally drove into the parade, making the rounds in Brighton Circle, walking around Silver Lake, climbing the big rock's stairs, a nap in the afternoon, and fireworks at night, what's not to love?
































Yes, I've been invited to the yearly 4th of July party that one of the members has for the missionaries, but it's just not the same. (And no matter what Elder Teare says, I love America. Hello, I can sing more than one verse of the Star Spangled Banner, I love patriotic songs, and I'm studying American Studies! ) I've been assuaging myself (or maybe actually making it worse) with a playlist of patriotic songs on YouTube. In one of my classes, my professor said, "National identity being defined by family, religion, and patriotism is strictly American." I love that.

Oh, and here's a side note: in making my playlist, I started to wonder why it is that my brain connects "I'm Proud to Be An American" with Boy Scouts. There we go again--patriotism from my dad, an avid scouter.

National Debt

Here is the U.S.'s current national debt:

Visit the U.S. National Debt Clock
Just a few questions:

1. Why are people getting all this money back from the government if there's such a huge debt?
2. The idea of the debt itself is so ridiculous to me. Who are they going to pay back? I mean, half of the people/institutions/countries we owe money to must have died or moved on by now, right? Is there a list somewhere of who to give money to?
3. How is it going to help to "write your congressman"? He'll just say, okay, cool, why doesn't everyone pay their $30,000?











4. Why, if 40% should go to the Federal Reserve Bank of the U.S., don't they just let it go? (I realize it is quasi-private, which just makes me say, "let it go, people, unless you personally want to pay a lot. And don't you have any pride in your country?")
5. I fully love astronomy, but isn't our love of Enlightenment ideas (human progress) a little expensive when we've got such a debt on our shoulders? Have you ever seen how much NASA gets? 16.2 billion in 2007. If we were to stop exploring space for a while, it would only take us . . . 577 years to pay off the debt. Bah, but that's only if it were to stop growing now. There must be other ways we can cut and other ways we can stop the growth of 1.49 billion per day. What if all politics adopted a King-Benjamin-like attitude, something similar to what Arnold has done?

Religiosity

I took this religion quiz and had these results:

What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavily by John Wesley and the Methodists. Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 64% Neo orthodox 50% Classical Liberal 50% Charismatic/Pentecostal 43% Fundamentalist 39% Modern Liberal 29% Emergent/Postmodern 21% Reformed Evangelical 14% Roman Catholic 14%

Hmmm, where would you classify Mormonism? By "depraved" does it mean of grace? I don't believe that.

I just tried to invite people on the street to our choir's benefit concert and the first girl I talked to said she doesn't like music (why can I not believe that? I've only heard of that once before, a date of Smelly Flowers'). One of the elders said I should have asked if she liked children (the concert is for the Ronald McDonald House). The second guy I talked to was so rude! I wasn't going to do any preaching or anything, but he immediately said he "knew my group" and to "go away." I said that I sing with the choir and would just like to invite, but he glared at me ("death-stare" it's called here) and kept telling me to go away. I was speechless and didn't know how to react. Missionaries see that every day, but I just can't understand it. How could you justify being so rude to people?

Yesterday I read 134 pages about secularity, society, religion in the beginnings of America, religiosity in today's world, etc. Although I'm not studying today, I've thought a lot about it. Here are many of interesting things in no particular order:

• Nations that are more accepting of new technology are also more religious (I always thought it was the reverse, people are always saying that science is replacing religion, but it's not true).
• The U.S. is an exception to every secularity pattern in the world. Ireland, Canada, and Australia also stand out, but not to the extent of the U.S.
• The biggest declines in church attendance are in Catholicism.
• Religious beliefs have become more individualized. People say they are religious but they do not believe that they need an official church.
• Some argue that increased availability of churches leads to increased church attendance. Empirical data does not support this claim.
• Some scholars say that Europe is the exception and the rest of the world is furiously still religious, or that Europeans are simply "differently religious," using churches to recognize life changes although they are losing religious knowledge.
  
• When someone (I'll change this when I find it in my notes again) was asked why they had put nothing in the constitution about religious beliefs of the country, he said, "We forgot." "Religion was barely mentioned at the Constitutional Convention." Is that because it was such a deep part of everyone's combined culture or was it because it was purposely ignored while people had bad experiences with power in the churches?
  
• Postindustrial societies stress self-expression and secular-rational values, and numbers of believers decrease.
• People do not get more religious as they age.
• The writers of the consitution debated for a while about having some kind of test about God in order to be put in as president, but they decided that it was unlikely that people would elect anyone with thinking about character.
• Jefferson and Adams speculated years later about religion in political leadership. They said it had no role if religion "consisted of fearmongering dogmas tuaght by clerics instead of the noble religion revealed in nature." What about our lesson of King Benjamin today in Mosiah 1-3? He was god-fearing and spoke to his people about God. He preached from the temple. He worked hard to support himself in addition to completing his duties as king (seems like a bishop's role to me). How many of us love King Benjamin but firmly believe in the separation of church and state? I guess Alma sums it up in that it is good to have kings if they would always follow god's ways (in Mosiah 29).
  
• "Christian teaching in America 'is usually a matter of emphasis.' Some emphasize the idea of America as a chosen nation . . . others stress the notion of America as a haven.
• Washington told Madison to write up something addressing the many concerns that had come up, and what he wrote became the Bill of Rights. I find that funny that after so much hard work with many people for the Constitution, Madison simply wrote up something and it was accepted. Maybe they were sick of working on every detail or maybe it was simply inspired.
• The Constitution was a document of the Enlightenment in that individuals could understand nature and progress through reason.
• One of the articles said that in the New World, people who fought about religion could just move to another uninhabited place, but eventually differences were accommodated. Another article mentioned that tolerance is two-sided in that it also shows a lack of religious conviction.
  
• Mormons don't fit many of the models I've read about. Peculiar people they are.

How America Sees the World

Let's turn it around now. This is interesting--at least for an American Studies student.

How the World Sees America

Interesting--for an American Studies Master's student, at least.

http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/postglobal/america/

American Ideas

Two of my fellow students' American Idea articles were published in the Atlantic Monthly!

http://americanstudies.uni-leipzig.de/news/173/

Cultural Comparisons: An American in Germany

I decided that there needed to be one place for my cultural comparisons, so now there is a nicely-designed blog just for that (notice the incorporated flag colors). I already have saved over 80 subjects for posts that just need to be written, had pictures added, and posted. I think I will release them slowly as 1. I have other things to do, and 2. What if I ever run out of things? This will keep the blog going for at least a year, right?

Anyway, click here if you want to see it.

What is the American Idea?

For those regular readers of The Atlantic Monthly (Amy and Paul win in this category), this question comes as no surprise. It's quite good timing that it comes right as I'm beginning my Master's in American Studies. A lot of well-known people have been asked to write about it, and we are reading and discussing their answers. Tom Wolfe, of course, couldn't stick to the 300-word limit and ended up with a couple thousand words. These perspectives are so fascinatingly different (some even seem to come from people who didn't understand the question), but I am still struggling to come up with my own answer. That's right, we are turning in our own 200-word responses, due in the middle of November. Here is a list of some short excerpts for your enjoyment (even if you don't read them all, please scroll down to Tom Wolfe's at the very end, it is my favorite):

LIST

Patriotic Dad

On my dad's side of the family, there is a family who obviously enjoyed the freedoms given to them as Americans: throughout a few generations, there are kids named named Alexander Hamilton Betzer, George Washington Betzer, and America Betzer (who went by Micky).
I think my patriotic spirit comes from the example set by my dad. He has always loved American history, patriotic songs, and the American flag. I can remember when he set about making a slide show to go with America the Beautiful. He wanted a flag to be in every setting described in the song. It really turned out quite nice. My love for the Star-Spangled Banner came from him. We are two of few Americans who can claim to know more than one verse.

This picture may be creepy, but you get the point . . .

On the Shore, Dimly Seen . . .

I love the 4th of July. What other holiday can a wonderful breakfast be enjoyed in my favorite canyon with my wonderful family? When else is there a parade that cars get stuck in on their way out and that we can throw candy at little kids? I can't imagine enjoying the sun on a hike on Christmas. No one can downplay the importance of the ritualistic afternoon nap on the 4th, or the wonder of patriotic music, not to mention chemicals exploding in the air in cool shapes and colors . . .

Happy birthday America, I love you (even though it may not seem like it because I'm leaving)!