Conspiracy theory

I’m sure of it. This could not be a coincidence. Both the internet (notice the small “i” under the new Wireless guidelines of not capitalizing either the internet or the web) and the cable TV suffered a mechanical failure the night of the debate. In the swing-state of Wisconsin no less. Tell me that you believe it to be unintentional, that the CEO of Charter was not twisting the wires somewhere behind the scenes.

You are blogging now. How could you be blogging with an internet breakdown?
The internet was restored, cable TV is still down.

So you missed the debate? A shame…
Oh no, I watched the debate. I had another non-cable TV, one of those ancient miniscule sets, but it was enough. I saw it all. Kerry clearly "won."

Whoaaaa! How can you say that? Don’t you want to know what others concluded? Didn’t you watch any of the post-election analysis?
That’s the trouble with these debates. Your opinion matters not a diddly swat. It’s all in the hands of the media analysts. America will decide on the wrong candidate based on the fact that some crackola after the debate will say that GW sounded in control or whatever.

Isn't it diddly squat?
Don’t skirt the issue. The issue is that immediately after the debate, a CNN poll indicated that 81% of those who watched the debate believed that Kerry “won.” One hour later, that number was down to 79% and plummeting. Now, either the Bush supporters are delayed CNN-readers, or we have people backing down because some jerko pundit offered her or his profoundly annoying observation on how Bush timed his smirks exactly right. Say what you will, I am with JF (here) and his mom in Iowa on this: Kerry did all that he could and he did it well. Anyone who thinks differently – meet me on the front lawn tomorrow at 6:45 a.m. and we’ll fight it out. That’s the proper way, isn’t it? All fists and no BILATERAL negotiations. EVER. Except with Vladimir. Who’s first-pal. And Kvahshnievskee – did I get that right? You know, the top honcho in Poland? The country that wont kick ass (JF terms) but will kiss ass (NC terms) with any current and future leader of this great land?

BTW, to the Polish Australian who linked to my post yesterday – yes, yes, I can agree to disagree, but COME ON! You’re not that down-under! See the light already!

Thirty-fourth street pre-election diary*

what does it say? 34th & eleventh avenue or eleventh hour? 

The great divide: if you follow thirty-fourth street from the Hudson River, beyond 11th avenue (does anyone ever step anywhere near 11th avenue? I saw not a soul), all the way east to the East River, you will see that indeed, there is nothing similar between the two ends of this important artery. (Note headline in today’s NYT: In Debate on Foreign Policy: Wide Gulf or Splitting Hairs?)

Thirty-fourth street: I come to it 34 days prior to November 2nd and on the day of the important debate on foreign policy.

Thirty-fourth street: so quintessentially American! The symbolism is amazing. On the Hudson River end I am facing the pier where ships, bringing immigrants from Europe, once docked. I came on one such ship way back, during my first crossing of the Atlantic in 1960. But look what has happened to the not-too-long-ago prominent United States Lines! Once a link to European nations, now a police outpost and depository for towed vehicles? Our connections to Europe are different now.

The day of the debate.

Not too long ago, this pier was a welcome sight 

Now that's depressing... 

Forget about the Hudson River. Move along, past the cherished symbols: the Empire State Building, Herald Square and the Thanksgiving Day parade, even a lovely view of the Chrysler building.

Here's a symbol that does not offend. 

"Give my regards to Broadway, remember me to Herald Square..." 

34th, in a different light 

And then, after hiking across the entire girth of Manhattan, I am at the East River. Here, looking up toward the Queensborough Bridge, I cannot help but catch the silhouette of the UN. It is in need of a facelift, they say. The building is getting old. I am not a flag person. But I do like the line up of masts standing before it, all 189 plus one, the one with the light blue background and a map of the world enveloped in a wreath of crossed branches of the olive tree.

East River, the UN, as seen from 34th street 

from the ode to the UN: "United Nations on the rise, with flags unfurled, together..." 

I am not exaggerating the great drama of this day and of this street and of this period in history. Really I’m not.

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

Today is certainly the day for letters and calls:

- to the reader who asked if “wiry” was a typo (in reference to the NYTimes story described in post below) that was meant to be “wired” – the answer is no;
- to my mother who has been calling all afternoon, probably wanting to know if I am literate enough to read the Times and to ask how come she did not know about the moonlighting thing – sorry, I’ll pick up the phone soon, I promise (she does not read the blog);
- to the Democratic campaign headquarters that confirmed my purchase of all sorts of Kerry paraphernalia, I want to ask – what good is a yard sign without the wire frame? I need it quickly, since my neighbor just put up his Bush/Chaney sign (he is outnumbered! Our block is looking red!);
- to the dean or chancellor or some such high-up official who asked that we not intimidate students by stating our political preferences, let me assure you that I never mention my political inclinations in class (we talk about pizza instead, see post below). Besides, some of my good friends are voting for Bush. Really. I’m having dinner with one tonight;
- To my favorite travel agent in the world – yes, I’ll still talk to you even though I am famous;
- To the sociology prof who asked if Apple followed me here from my own trips to the Big Apple: unfortunately no. I am a mere fleck of dust on the Apple landscape. I met him only once before this most recent visit to Madison. A couple of years ago, we were at a bar, Apple, Chef O and I, and it was loud, and Apple said to Chef O “I feel my Italian sucks” and she heard it as “would you feel my Italian socks?” Always up for an original idea, she reached over and... yes, well, it all ended in great mirth.

A law prof's notes:

FAQs by law students in class:
- Will it be on the exam?
- Could you repeat what you just said?
- When are your office hours again?
- Why can’t we have an open-book exam?
- Can I bring in my paper one hour late? One day? One week?

FAQs by me in class:
- Do you remember what the court said in (such-and-such a case)?
- Are you saying that you’d like to pass today?
- Are you saying anything at all?
- Are you alive?
- What’s so funny, over there in the back row?

Unususal Qs asked by students in class:
- Do you like us enough to buy us pizza?
- Would you mind if I brought my mom and dad to class?
- What’s a blog?
- Did you see Avenue Q (the New York Broadway show)?
- Can we have wine instead of beer at your party next week (we’re so sick of beer…)?

Unusual Qs asked by me in class (just this week!)(with answers!):
- Okay, okay, you’ll do. – who is a vegetarian? – two out of twenty four.
- Who read the NYTimes today? – one, but I don’t think he read it THAT carefully.
- If you saw a baby on the railroad tracks and an oncoming train, would you save the baby? – depends...
- Why are you waving your hand excitedly? – in support of beer over wine.
- Who remembers what it was like in Berkeley in the late sixties (this is a propos of the brutal murder of Tatiana Tarasoff in 1969, leading to the famous “duty to warn foreseeable victim” court decision)? How old are you all anyway? – not old enough to remember what it was like in Berkeley in the late sixties.

Thirty-fifth street pre-election diary*

35th and tenth: a place to take your broken yellow wheels 

I could work the “fix it” routine to death in this post. The NYTimes alone has themes today that talk of Kerry coming in from behind, repairing a campaign that has faltered more than once, etc.

When I came upon this taxi repair place in New York among the empty lots of far west 35th street, I thought it was quite fascinating. There it was, this bright yellow splotch of awning, with, indeed, a “broken” taxi in front. Had I a folding chair, I may have sat down to watch. That’s the kind of dumb thing I would do in NY. And you wonder why I found myself out of time to visit a museum on this trip to the city!

Fame

And so now we know who, from the NYTimes, came to Madison several Saturdays ago to write a story on our Farmers Market. The piece appears in the paper today (here) and it is a beautifully written (of course) tribute to the farmers who lug their produce into town each week.

For the impatient reader who never clicks to the links, let me at least quote the line that succinctly captures so many disparate threads that run through my life. Apple writes:

After checking the list, (Odessa) slipped it onto a clipboard and handed it to Nina Camic, a wiry, Polish-born law professor at the University of Wisconsin who moonlights as the restaurant's "forager" or farmers' market purchasing agent, filling a little red wagon as she works the stalls.

Wiry. Yeah, that’s okay too. And he did in the end leave out the “personal shopper” bit. Purchasing agent sounds much more classy.

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

I cannot help it -- it's in my blood

My sister forwarded an article yesterday where it is stated that, in terms of the number of blogs per Internet users, Poles are right at the top, surpassing American blogger rates two to one, and that’s not even counting those Polish blogs that are hosted on American domains, nor is it controlling for the disproportionately large number of Internet users in Poland as compared to elsewhere.

Why are we a nation of bloggers (I’m writing as a Pole now)? Why do we take to the Internet? Why do we feel the need to express ourselves in this way?

This is my chance to offer great insights into the Polish psyche. Caveat: I do not want my Polish friends/family members to jump on me for feeding national stereotypes in this post. I am not saying ALL Poles are this way, but I am saying that, errrr, some of us have, errrr, some, alright, a number, alright a GREAT number of these traits:

* We think we will all die tomorrow and so we feel compelled to hurry and put down every last word before the reaper comes knocking.

* We think we are a nation of poets; unfortunately, when we try our hand at poetry it doesn’t come out right and so we blog instead.

* We are a literate nation. We read a lot of news papers and magazines. We consume the stuff like our souls depended on it. Obviously all that reading makes us want to sound off about what we have just read.

* Our bloodline got mixed up with an Italian strain many centuries ago during years of conquest and royal travels. We are thus an expressive lot. Just like Italians. There, two stereotypes in one point.

* We have adventurous palates and we have ravenous appetites for trendy things. We’ll try anything that’s new and popular elsewhere.

* Vodka and blogging go hand in hand nicely. Have you ever tried writing a post with a chilled bottle of Wyborowa feeding a martini glass? No? Me neither, but it sounds enticing for a cold winter’s night. Or, to a Pole it does. With some pickles and maybe a piece of herring on dark rye. And cold stubby fingers sticking out wooly gloves.

But I refuse to accept the label of INSANITY levied not too long ago against those who blog or email obsessively. I put my foot down on that one. We’re passionate, but NOT insane. There’s a difference.