Up Is the New Down

The Common Man believes that Procrast is a wonderful nation in which to vacation at the end of a semester. In an age when there is so much out there to see and do, how can a person not willfully get distracted from mundane chores such as paper writing. Indeed, writing has been gleefully interupted by cleaning and the NFL draft and laundry and a Twins game, house guests and, now, a blog entry.

The Uncommon Wife's little cousin is attending Penn State as a freshman this coming school year and she and her mother are visiting for the evening in the anticipation of getting a tour and turning in paperwork in the morning. This is a perfect opportunity for more procrastination, as The Common Man is looking forward to remembering what hopeful, uncynical exuberance was like.

Anyway, there are certainties in this world. Things that are absolutely sure bets on which everyone can agree. The world is round. The sun will come up tomorrow. If you throw a ball into the air, it will eventually land. There are WMDs in Iraq (it's a slam dunk!) And Journey is way better than Styx.

Until today, The Common Man thought that roads were solid, permanent things that would be our most lasting legacy upon this earth, in the way that you can still see places where wagons passed along the Oregon Trail. That is why The Common Man finds this so disillusioning. That the road in front of The Common Man could buckle and crumble and melt is shocking and befuddling. The world is flat and "Come Sail Away" is stuck on repeat.

Oh well, it's up to you, dirty diapers and McDonalds styrofoam containers, to carry on after this society is gone and everyone moves to The Common Mania.

Forward and Back

Only one more week to go until the end of the semester here, and The Common Man is looking forward to getting back to blogging four times a week. That said, The Common Man could not stay silent any longer, particularly in light of the recent news cycles.

Now, The Common Man often wonders about the nature of the universe. You know, why we're here? Where did here come from? What existed before there was "something?" These are common questions, of course, asked and answered by countless human beings since the dawn of consciousness and higher level thought. Once man moved beyond wondering where his next meal was going to come from, he turned to questions about his own existence and prayed that that existence had some kind of higher meaning, that we weren't all alone.

Recently, Bill O'Reilly tackled this difficult and complicated series of questions with his usual "bull in a china shop" style, completely oversimplifying the issue and his "throwin' in with Jesus" in his debate with noted atheist Richard Hawkins and it got The Common Man thinking about the possibility of God and the beginning of things.

The Common Man, for once, agrees with O'Reilly (almost as disturbing as the time, recently, when The Common Man agreed with Geraldo Rivera). Simply saying that science explains how the universe got the way it is doesn't explain where a big ball of matter and energy that exploded in a big bang came from in the first place.

Naturally, as The Common Man pondered on the beginning of the universe, he thought about the end. Indeed, as the world becomes increasingly violent and polluted, it's as though life on this planet is rushing toward some kind of windshield, on which we'll all be splattered.

Indeed, signs abound around us. For instance, theologians believe that, when the world ends, the dead will rise and walk among us (George Romero will be out of a job at that point, The Common Man is afraid). Lo and behold, on Wednesday night, this happened on American Idol.

For now, let's leave aside the fact that Celine Dion has the balls to think that she should be allowed to sing with Elvis. And let's put aside the lunacy of American Idol producers thinking their remaining Idol contestants should even be allowed on a stage that The King has graced. But what the video confirms is that the dead do walk again. They are among you. Indeed, one of them is even singing with a CGI hologram of Elvis Presley (hold for laughter).

Anyway, if this is indeed the End Times on this planet, it's nice to know that, now, humanity has some place to go. Though scientists don't yet know whether this new world already has life (don't worry, if it does have life, I'm sure someone will be able to kill it), or if it even has water, The Common Man remains confident that they will work out all the details before everyone needs to abandon ship. That said, the new planet, let's call it The Common Mania, is smaller than this one, so not everyone will get to go. Only the best and the brightest and the most necessary will be sent along to preserve the human species. And when that day comes, The Common Man (and The Uncommon Wife) will undoubtedly be too old to be of much use to anyone. So they will be left behind. But The Boy still has a chance. That's why it's time for him to stop chewing on his toes and start doing some calculus. The Common Man's legacy must live on!

Nothing Clever

The Common Man's off today, banished to the corner of my mind. My heavy heart goes out today to students and parents of students, and employees of Virginia Tech University. What a senseless and horrible tragedy. What a mockery of everything that is good and decent in this world. It makes me want to go find my son at his "school" and hug him until tomorrow.

We seem to try to insulate themselves from tragedy in every way possible in this society: by moving out of bad neighborhoods, by procuring constant care for their children, by not leaving the house. Yet, tragedy strikes everywhere and everyone. I hope the lesson taken from this tragedy isn't just that people need to find new and better ways to shelter themselves, but also that people need to find new and better ways to connect with one another in the hopes that tragedies like this can be avoided as much as possible. I believe strongly (and so does The Common Man, by the way) that, in a world where we continue to find ways to distance ourselves from other people (because of email, telecommuting, IM, expansion of the reaches of popular culture, and suburban sprawl, that we are constantly encouraged to think of ourselves as alone in a narcissistic bubble. Other people become, not people, but two-dimensional characters in our own little personal play. It is only by breaking down those barriers and connecting with our fellow men and women that we are encouraged to consider the lives and needs of others.

I've been listening to the media talk extensively about this for an hour or so, pouring over the actions of the university and wondering why more wasn't done to stop this gunman and to limit the damage he could do. I think those are the wrong things to be focusing on. Instead, we should be asking ourselves how someone could come to believe that his own life and the pain that he was in was more important than the lives and pain of two or three dozen more people. I don't know the answer to that, but I hope somebody starts trying to think of the answer.

Hippity Hoppity

Note: The Commmon Man wanted to post this over the weekend, but there was difficulty finding a computer on which to do it while he was celebrating Easter with his inlaws in Lancaster.

The Common Man promised a blog entry over the weekend, and so a blog entry you shall have:

This is the Easter weekend, a joyous time in the Christian church. As such, The Common Man, with The Uncommon Wife and The Boy in tow, will venture far and wide, first to Philadelphia then to just outside of Lancaster, PA to spend the Easter holiday with The Uncommon Inlaws. This will be The Boy's first opportunity to meet his maternal great-grandmother, so he is excited (though at this point, sucking on his fist and finding his toes also qualify as exciting).

The Common Man has often wondered why Easter gets relatively short shrift in our culture, among Christian holidays. Indeed, among all holidays. Christmas, of course, has blown up like the Olson Twins and is a force unto itself. Even non-religious families feel pressure to celebrate it. The Fourth of July has a drawing power that brings families together to grill and watch fireworks. Valentine's Day has become a massive financial industry. Veterans Day gets spread out over a full weekend.

Yet Easter, by most accounts, is the most important of the Christian holidays. Even more than the birth of Christ, this day celebrates the reason why Christianity exists. It is a day to remember why Christians are Christians in the first place. But Christians in this country treat it like a second-class holiday. Some roll it into Spring Break. Some do not celebrate it. Some think of it solely as a day of bunnies and colored eggs (by the way, if you haven't already, watch South Park's take on Easter from last week; hilarious). It should be exalted among holidays but it is not. Why?

The Common Man thinks that it's mostly because people like Baby Jesus more than Adult Jesus. Call this the Ricky Bobby effect. It seems like people are happiest with a cute little 8 lbs, 6 oz baby Jesus. Adult Jesus was, apparently, kind of scrawny and hairy. Also, once he gets arrested, Adult Jesus gets uglied and bloodied up pretty quick. Ever wonder why we don't see Adolescent Jesus? Because nobody wants to see a pimply, awkward, greasy Jesus with a cracking voice. People prefer their Jesi to be aesthetically pleasing.

Also, Baby Jesus is harmless and helpless, he must be cared for (by his surrogate family, the Christian community). Adult Jesus can take care of himself, thank you very much. Hungry? Here, let Adult Jesus rustle you up some loaves and fishes. Ow, adult Jesus fell off a roof during a filming of backyard wrestling with Simon-Peter? Don't worry, he's already healed his shattered fibula. Needing beverages for an expensive dinner party? Put Adult Jesus on the guest list and everybody gets wine! Just don't invite any money-lenders, pharisees, or tax collectors (Zaccheaus excepted).

Plus, Baby Jesus is quiet (Silent Night: "Little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes."). Adult Jesus has the temerity to tell people how they should live their lives. How annoying! There's nothing worse than a bossy, know-it-all savior.

Also, it's worth noting that Christmas comes at the beginning of winter, when snow and cold are relative novelties. It's easier to be excited about a time of year when you aren't cursing your decision to live north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Easter comes at the tail end of winter, when everyone's sick of the cold and wind. It's no fun anticipating yet another weekend that it's too cold to grill.

That's all I've got. Got more ideas, post them below.

By the way, according to the Religious Talk Radio The Common Man listened to on the way back from Lancaster, he is not crazy. Celebrating Easter has always been secondary to celebrating Christmas in this country, and celebrating the holiday did not become widespread until the late 19th century. Happy [belated] Easter.

programming note: because this didn't get posted until Monday (and because he doesn't have class tomorrow), The Common Man will be back tomorrow.

Slurring The King's English

Before beginning, The Common Man would like to issue a public service announcement. If you have had too much to drink, it is unsafe to operate an automobile. The Common Man recommends that you take a zamboni instead. Zambonis, if would seem, are not motor vehicles because "they aren't usable on highways and can't carry passengers" according to New Jersey Judge Joseph Falcone (which, incidentally, is a terrific name). This decision denotes a certain lack of imagination on the judge's part, as The Common Man is certain that, were he so inclined and had sufficient access to one, he could get that zamboni out on the highway with The Uncommon Wife and The Boy riding on the hood. Anyway, while the point is that driving drunk on a zamboni will not get you busted in New Jersey, it also seems that the life of a zamboni driver is not as glamorous as it sounds, as the driver in question testified "he did drink beer and vodka, but not until after he had groomed the ice. However, he told police he had a shot of Sambuca with his breakfast coffee and two Valium-pills before work." Seriously? Sambuca with breakfast? That's sad. And funny. Sorry.

Anyway, it seems that former Speaker Newt Gingrich should have completely given up speaking once he lost his job. The former head of the Republican Party recently argued to National Federation of Republican Women that immersing Spanish-speaking students into English-only classrooms was important, "so people learn the common language of the country and they learn the language of prosperity, not the language of living in a ghetto." Let's take Gingrich's statement apart here.

First, let's dispense with the obvious. Gingrich intimates that Spanish is a language of poverty, of a "ghetto," a statement so oblivious to the success of bi-lingual Americans who have leveraged their knowledge of both Spanish and English into incredible success (people like President Bush, for instance, who used his knowledge of Spanish to appeal to Latinos in Texas when he was running for governor) and so ignorant that The Common Man doesn't feel the need to call any more attention to it, save to say that if Gingrich thinks he's going to run for President and win a general election without any support from Spanish-speaking voters, he's an idiot.

Second, Gingrich suggests that there is a common language for this country. Gingrich seems to think that English is a stable, uniform thing. In reality, there are multiple Englishes at work right now, differentiated by accent and dialect. Indeed, The Common Man's grandmother likes to tell the story that she used to call her cousin in Florida, and that she could not understand the operator, who was apparently from the Deep South. Is this inconvenient? Of course it is. Would it be nice if everyone spoke using a common vocabulary so as to discourage misunderstanding? Sure. But it's never been that way before, and, The Common Man would argue, that difference is part of what makes different communities unique and makes our country all the more interesting. Besides, in a country as large and as populous as this is, there is virtually no chance of establishing a uniform language.

And it's not as though English is a pure language in and of itself. Indeed, English is the bastard offspring of Anglo-Saxon, French, Latin, and German, among others. It has been in near-constant flux since William of Normandy invaded Britain in 1056. So if a little Spanish influences Gingrich's precious English, if through the tension between these languages, English grows and expands, that's not a bad thing. It's just a thing.

Of course, this isn't simply a question about language. It is also a question about education. Gingrich and his ilk would like students to be "immersed" in an English-only classroom, rather than have the option of bilingual education, arguing that only through immersion will students be able to get the education that will allow them to "succeed". Gingrich, in his non-apology apology, argues, "But my point was simply this -- in the United States, it is important to speak the English language well in order to advance and have success." Certainly, The Common Man agrees with that sentiment. However, Gingrich's education proposal is more related to an English-only ideology than by concern over what will allow bilingual students to learn best. After all, bilingual students will not succeed simply by knowing English. There are a multitude of other skills they will need to know in order to become successful outside of the classroom. The Common Man would argue that a bilingual education, for at least the first part of the child's education, would have allow them to learn those skills faster, so as to be able to compete with their native English-speaking classmates.

The Common Man becomes angry when politicians try to score political points by throwing out ideological notions about education that have little to nothing to do with what is best for the children and the communities in which those children live. Gingrich is appealing to his conservative base at the expense of Latino (and Asian, and African) school children. It's wrong.

New Link on the Right

Just a quick post: somebody named Mike's Evil Twin has a new blog about baseball that The Common Man hears will be pretty good once he gets it running on a regular basis. It's listed on the side.

Running Into a Meandering Post

As a general rule, The Common Man cares little about what others think of him. That said, good friend of the blog Mark Huffines mentioned the other day that The Common Man was something of a crack dealer, providing just enough content to get you hooked, but then to string you along with less and less stuff as your desperation grows for more of The Common Man. The Common Man understands this plight and certainly did not want any of his precious few readers to undergo withdrawal symptoms.

Because the semester is in its home stretch, The Common Man will have to cut back on his blogging, but does not want to drop off the face of the Earth. So, here is what The Common Man proposes, he will drop back to writing three entries a week. One on Monday, one on Thursday, and one over the weekend until the semester resolves itself. After that, how about we reassess?

The Common Man is multi-tasking this afternoon, writing a blog, putting away laundry, reading for class this week, and watching three different baseball games here on Opening Day. It's a busy time, obviously, that would be made less busy if The Common Man were able to avoid the festivities of Opening Day. But he can't do that. Opening day is a beautiful thing. For a moment, a brief moment, everyone is equal. Everyone has hope for a strong season, and can envision their team going all the way. Right now, the Yankees are tied with the Devil Rays and the Royals are tied with the Twins. By the end of the day, of course, this won't be the case, particularly because the Rays are playing the Yanks right now.

Unlike in years past, The Common Man can now watch every major league game thanks to MLB's Extra Innings package on his DirecTV. This is amazing. Fifty years ago, almost no one could even watch their own local team on TV, let alone watch them all. Hell, if The Common Man wanted to, he could watch them on his TV, his computer, or his telephone.

The pace at which this world is changing is both wonderful and scary to The Common Man. Sure, MLB's Extra Innings package is a wonderful advancement. But its a symbol for a society in which there is seemingly unlimited access to cultural productions. In the early 1980s, sociologist James S. Coleman argued that our social structure, in which parents were not around (because of longer, more demanding work and the expansion of the suburbs away from centers of work) and children were left to fend for themselves would leave the home "psychologically barren." Kids would increasingly pick up social and behavioral cues from other kids and from popular culture. Because the messages of other kids and pop culture are mixed, "the child has a less fully developed sense of what is right and what is wrong." The Common Man doesn't know that there is a crisis of childhood and that America's children are in some kind of psychological danger, but he does think that the decreasing role of parents in the lives of children and the greater access kids have to material that parents disapprove of (and that children are not ready to assess critically) is troubling. And how does a parent stop the flow of the river of information? Or, more importantly, how does a parent filter out the pollutants that somebody dumped in upstream?

Maybe The Common Man and The Uncommon Wife should just not teach The Boy any English. Spanish is an increasingly useful language, and Spanish-language programming sucks (so he'll be discouraged from watching it).