Images of Erie

Educated in a small town,
Taught the fear of Jesus in a small town,
Used to daydream in that small town,
Another boring romantic that's me.

--John Cougar Mellencamp

Thanks to www.lyricsfreak.com for helping me sleep those nights I can't remember the rest of the lyrics to a song, or who sang it.

I spent six days back home with my family in Erie. It was too cold to jog, so I walked around and took some photos. Watching CSI tonight reminded me of watching with my Dad last week. When it came on, my Dad yelled to the kitchen, "CSI Miami's on. Who's counting, you or me?."

"Counting what?" I asked.

"How many times Caruso takes off his sunglasses." That's my Pop. Thinking of Dad reminded me of my photos of home. So, here are my Top Ten Erie Landmarks -- some relate to US history, and some to my personal history.

10. The Dari Creem. One of the things I miss in the summer in SF are small, neighborhood, soft serve ice cream places. Erie has them everywhere. Dari Creem is famous for Blue Moon ice cream (for all I know they may have invented it). I can't even tell you what the flavor is, but it tastes great, and turns your tongue a bluish color that is pretty gross, and therefore cool to a seven year old boy. Unfortunately, the Dari Creem was closed for the winter, so my craving for Blue Moon will pang away until summer since I've never seen it outside of Erie.

9. Presque Isle, AKA "The Peninsula". I can still hear the museum recording..."Lake Erie's only natural harbor, the name Presque Isle is French for 'almost an island'". The beaches actually draw millions of visitors each year -- and if you've never been to a good ocean beach, it's pretty cool. When I was a teenager, though, some of the beaches were closed due to high bacteria counts (why the bacteria were expected to keep to one beach and not another, I'll never know). Things have gotten a little cleaner, though, thanks to the zebra mussels. (The image is an aerial view from www.visiteriepa.com)

8. St. Mary's School. Around the corner from the Dari Creem, this is where I went for K-8. My father and grandmother went there, too. It was a parochial school, which basically means it was "private", but not in the affluent Andover/Exeter sense. Instead, we had poor to middle income families from a variety of ethnic groups, who were scrimping and pinching to pay a nominal tuition to get their kids a leg up. After over 100 years and thousands of students, it closed a few years back. The building is now used by a children's center.

7. Horace Greely. For those who don't know him, he's the journalist who coined the phrase, "Go west, young man, go west", and he stayed in Erie for a while. I don't know if it was his advice or that of the Village People, but here I am in SanFranciscoo.

6. Dobbins Landing. Previously known as the Erie Public Dock, the name was changed some years ago because the "l" in public kept disappearing. Now it is named for Daniel Dobbins, a Great Lakes navigator who was instrumental in outfitting Commodore Perry's ships for the Battle of Lake Erie. (Picture from www.visitnwpa.com)

5. Loganville. Believe it or not, this is my parents backyard. In what had been short left of Trambley Field (wiffle ball), there is now a shanty town. My kind-hearted parents told a neighborhood odd jobs guy, Logan, that he could store some stuff in the yard. He's been slowly adding buildings ever since. He'll need a fire department soon.

4.Oliver Hazard Perry. Commodore Perry is one of the dominant figures in Erie history, his name drilled into the brains ofyoungd Erie-ites. Long story short, he won the Battle of Lake Erie during the war of 1812. This statue and plaque are on Perry Square in downtown Erie. The Perry Monument is on Presque Isle. Perry Plaza is on Broad Street. The only person who rivals him for eponymous stuff in town is General "Mad" Anthony Wayne, a famously weird soldier from the Revolutionary War who happened to die in Erie and later had his body boiled.

3. Pio's Pizza. This is the best pizza for the price (and maybe att all) in the known universe. I have no idea why -- it's neither crispy, thin, New York style nor thick, pastry, Chicago style. It's just cheap, down home, authentic Italian corner store pizza. My family has been eating it for at least three generations. I go to East Avenue (pronounce ee-stav-nu, accent on the stav) every time I'm home to get some. Recently, they changed from the thin, wide pepperoni to the thick, narrow pepperoni. The latter curls up while it cooks, and the grease pools in the slice of 'roni and burns the roof of your mouth when it's hot. Mmmmm. And I've never found it in SF.















2.The Brig Niagara. The number one artifact in Erie. The legend, as taught in Erie, is that Commodore Perry (see #4) left his flagship, the Lawrence, after it had been damaged. He boarded the Brig Niagara, raised his "Don't Give Up the Ship" flag, and ordered the Niagara to cut through the British Line, firing cannons at point blank from both sides. This bold and successful maneuver basically decided the Battle of Lake Erie, leading to the only recorded surrender of the British navy. The battle was actually fought in Put-in-Bay, Ohio, but you'd never know it from being in Erie.
The ship tours the Great Lakes on occasion, but is harbored in Erie. Obviously, it looks cooler in the summer when it's not covered by a tarp.

1. The Homestead. This is the house in which I was raised from 1978-1991 (prior to that, we lived on East 10th in a flat owned by my (great-) Uncle Val. I'm sure I'll be blogging about him someday). My parents still live there under the boxes of things from my childhood, about which I was frequently reminded this trip. Wow, did I have a lot of stuffed animals. Including a pink elephant that I named Pinky -- how did I miss the signs for so long?

That's all for now. Do I make any more sense to y'all?

Home is the place where,
when you have to go there,
they have to take you in.

--Robert Frost

Politics, Politics, Politics...

--Comicus, Stand-Up Philosopher (i.e., Bull-Shitter), History of the World Part I

Sorry I've been away so long (as usual). I had my work week, and then went back home to Erie -- more on that later. Suffice it to say no one from Cleveland was anxiously awaiting my return.
Before I left I was out with some friends and, after a few drinks, I went into political wonk mode. Some of them, including Chad over at Stop Touching My Food, thought it might be insightful. This probably had to do with the booze, but c'est la vie. Remember, you read it here first.

I am a life long Democrat. We need a new strategy. The word liberal seems to have four letters, President Bush has artfully made everyone who questions him unpatriotic, and somehow we have allowed pro-choice to mean pro-abortion (anytime, anyplace). Time to change the discourse and re-"frame" the argument. (If you want to read about "frames" and political thought, check out Don't Think of an Elephant by George Lakoff -- it gets a little redundant, but there are some nifty ideas and strategies.)

We need a slogan or issue that hits a classic American nerve and will jolt people like a knock to the funny bone. Enough of a jolt that a Democrat could argue with the President and Republicans as a fellow patriot with a different, but important focus. Then issues can be tied to it. Better yet if it emphasizes currently perceived weakness, or even, dare I say, a scandal.

My candidate -- "Privacy, not secrecy". Why?

1) Start with the spying -- legally questionable. And topical. Grant that the president may have broadened powers during a time of war, but when does the war on terrorism end? Play clips of Eisenhower's speech on the military/industrial complex. Republican on republican action -- sexy, ain't it.

2) Link privacy with PERSONAL FREEDOM as the soul of the USA. (The truth can be a strong weapon, but only when wielded appropriately.) Remind people that this is what the young American men and women in Iraq and Afghanistan are defending, and it would be nice if they still had some freedoms when they return. We can't become the tyranny we fight.

3) Snag some libertarians and small government conservatives by mentioning that the government is getting bigger to spy on people. If the era of small government isn't over, let's keep it to welfare, medicine, and highways. Insert your favorite 1984 reference (George Orwell, not Ronald Reagan) here. On the other hand, link the spying to the KGB, then bring up how Reagan fought the cold war to free Eastern Europe of this sort of government intrusion on privacy -- see #1 (more sexy republican infighting). Then you can fold in Nancy Reagan and stem cell research -- at private universities if necessary.

4) Reframe abortion. When it's a choice, it's a terrible one to have to make. Don't defend the act, defend the right to make your own decision. Roe vs. Wade hinges on an implicit right to privacy in the constitution -- defend that, not "choice".

5) Cue the "vs. secrecy" part. Again, start with the spying and executive privilege. Bring in all the secret closed door meetings on environmental policy and energy. Hop over to Abramoff and Tom Delay -- easy targets. Don't forget the secret intelligence information on Iraq that was wrong. (Even if you don't consider that information "secret", people will by it if the framing works. And it will invoke memories of all the other issues. Really. Read the Lakoff book.)

6) On to Judge, soon to be Justice, Alito. This is what you get for electing a President who will nominate people who endorse violating the privacy of 10 year old girls. (Bonus points if you can work "private parts" into this commercial without seeming crude.) He also allows executive secrecy, and secret military courts to try Americans.

7) Katrina -- I haven't quite worked this one in yet, but I'm open to ideas. I think linking to home ownership and the "Private Sector" (see how broad this gets) is a winner. If not, evoke the last winning democrat to energize the base -- "It's the privacy, stupid."

I could probably do more, but I'm taking some private time. Let me know if you have number 8. Now we just need a messenger -- perhaps more on that later, also.

Poser of the day: Chad Fox and I were given a gratis dessert. We split it with two spoons. Did I touch his food? (Check out his blog at chadfox.com. Especially his podcast -- I got a dedication. Thanks, Chad.)

The Daily Rant

A few weeks ago, I rented a U-haul to get my most recent, and hopefully last, piece of living room furniture (pictured above). I drove to U-haul, and they set me up with a pick-up. After being on the phone 20 minutes to get my insurance approved, we finally got to the contracts. As I signed the forms, the woman behind the counter told me that I was getting the truck with the gas gauge between 1/4 and 1/2 tank full, and I "needed to return it the same way". The paperwork even showed a gauge, with a grey bar centered slightly south of 3/8 full.



Everywhere else in the world, by the way, you get the truck with the tank full, and you return it full. This way, you only pay for the gas you use (unless you prepay a tank). In SF, though, they need to make a little extra off you, so they invented this system to make sure that you over-fill it and save them money (because they threatened you with a re-fill fee).

I drove the thing about 10 miles, and the meter was still just south of 3/8 full. I'll be honest here -- I wasn't trying to get away with anything, but I was in a hurry (my baby was parked in a 2 hour spot). Since even a gallon would have overfilled it, and it was still between 1/4 and 1/2 tank, which was what she had said (as opposed to "Return it with the exact same amount of fuel), I just took it back. She claimed the tank had been 3/8 full, it was now less, and I owed them a refueling fee. This despite the fact that I showed her the paper, with the bar at less that 3/8.

But that's not what set me into a rant that my friend demanded I blog. I just took the keys back, added two gallons, and, cursing all the while, returned it more full than I had found it. No, what drove me crazy were this lady's (used loosely) fingernails. Let the rant begin -- expect little logic.

There are a number of levels on which I do not understand the long fingernail craze. First, women seem to think it is attractive. In an evolutionary since, I can see the use of a manicure. Nice nails might make it appear that your life is easy, you don't have to do manual labor, your immune system is good, etc. We haven't had fake nails all that long -- I just can't fathom a selective advantage to long, curved, blood red plastic with sequins. At most, it evokes in me an innate Freddy Kruger-esque fear that makes me want to run (You can actually still buy the pictured glove -- www.morbid.demon.co.uk).

But that's not really what gets to me about those nails.

I'd have to say my annoyance began when I worked in community hospitals, and many of my female patients had the nails. I could never understand how people who raised hell about paying $1.00 per prescription (not making this up) could afford to have their nails done like that. Priorities, folks! And don't wear those things and complain that your rash is itchy and just keeps getting worse.

Aside (before you send me hate mail):
(1) I know the cost of a nail job is a drop in the bucket compared to the cost of health care, and (2) the manicure probably made them feel better than I could on the county's budget. Symbolically, though, it drove me nuts. And that's not really what gets to me about those damn nails.

Enough suspense. What makes me cringe is watching women with long, fake nails type. I have seen this done in two ways. First, there are those who can curl their fingers back like some double-jointed witch, get the nylon out of the way, and still type with their real fingertips. This is just freaky.

Then there are those who actually type with the tips of the fake nails. This works in today's touch typing world, and on its face seems less freaky than keyboard a la witch. Let's remember, though, that I have a bizarre mind. Every time I see this, I get a mental image of one of these women using a manual typewriter (from www.wescottcompany.com -- they still sell 'em). Something would have to give. Would the nail break in half? Would it come off at the base? Where would it fly?

Suddenly I'm watching a CSI episode, with someone surreptitiously placing a solvent on the woman's fingers so that when she sits down to type, a nail flies through her eye and kills her. Even cooler if she were typing a suicide note -- and got murdered on the way. Coolest if she somehow rigs the carom to "accidentally" kill someone else. Every time I see those nails, my brain gets stuck on this for a good hour before I can dispatch the thoughts to a place where they only pop up a few times a day. I love a good mystery, but after a while, it drives me nuts. I've actually thought about the equation that would define the trajectory of the nail. I shit you not.

That felt good. Nothing like a bizarre, tangential rant. You should hear the next three burrs that were up my ass that day. Maybe you will -- let's just say that the phrase "Turn on your Gaydar" led to a 10 minute diatribe that had my friend, and two other people who happened by, in stitches.

For the record, I can't even blame this on a mind-altering substance. I was sober when it happened, when I complained about it (though not for long after), and when I wrote it (we'll see about the after). If you hadn't already figured it out, I'm just strange. As some hero of my Dad once said, "The truth shall make you -- odd."

Happy New Year

2005 was a pretty big year for me. Professionally, I finished residency and got my first "real job". Socially, I said good-bye to a number of friends, but made many new ones, some of whom have become quite dear to me. Personally, I made some progress in solving the puzzle that is me.

Creatively, I started this weblog. I am touched by all of you who take the time to read it. In addition to my wishes for a "Happy New Year", I leave you with my favorite toast:

May the best of your past be the worst of your future.


Happy 2006!

--Joel