What I Just Read: Political Waters

As the last book I will ever read for my Undergraduate career Political Waters by Eric Jay Dolin perfectly summarizes how I felt about most books I read and classes I took while at Northeastern; it was interesting but overall the information lends itself to specific arguments that do little to interest the audience (in this particular realm it was environmental law, something I care little for even though this is the third class that I have come in contact with it).

If you were ever confused as to what Dirty Water by The Standells was about then this is your book. Political Waters chronicles the development and consequent reseolution of the Boston Harbor pollution problem, which began when the Puritans settled the Shawmut Peninsula and then began making waste.

Political Waters explains why and how sewer systems were implemented in America and how the process went from a private affair to an incredibly public one. An affair that saw countless acts of legislation and private suits that brought us to our current situation.

A little side not: Boston Harbor is actually quite clean in comparrison to what it has been like in the past, noticibly cleaner than even 15 years ago. That being said I wouldn't swim in it. Oh and please head the signs.


The book itself has a textbook feel to it with the glossy cover all the way around and the rather long sub heading. The book is large (tall and wide, not thick) and upon inspection of the text inside you realize it does not need to be. Though those features are enough for me to say to hell with the book I am intrigued by the map/painting on the cover. The cover is a detailed illustration of what looks to me as mid to late 17th century Boston. Being a large fan of maps and illustrations of cities this cover of course would pique my interest, and I of course am known to have purchased books solely because they have neat covers.

As I said before this is my last book for class at Northeastern, this week marks my last week as an Undergrad. It's weird, and I really don't know what to say. Honestly I don't. Maybe just that from here on out I would like to think the books I read will always be of my choosing.

Consider Yourself Soiled Ol' Glory!

As I have noted before I am taking a "A History of Boston" as one of my final two classes (which I have to pass by the way). In this class there are a couple books I have to read, books I may or may not have read if it were not for this class. The first book I enjoyed very little and concluded that because of it's title, appearance and plot there is very little chance I would have ever read it.

The Soiling of Old Glory by Louis P. Masur catalogs the issues and the incident behind the famous photo by photographer Stanley Forman. It uses the infamous photo to deconstruct the outbreak of racial animosity in Boston during the 1970's so we can better understand why it happened. For me it read much like a 200 page Wikipedia article, informative but at the same time dry and boring.

Having read All Souls by Michael Patrick MacDonald when I was younger I already have a fair grasp on the riots and violence that surrounded the forced busing of the 1970's. What really interested me was the photo, which I have never come across although I have lived in Massachusetts my whole life.

Stanley Forman won a Pulitzer for "Old Glory" which pictures a black man being held while a young white male is poised to strike him with the tip of a pole holding an American flag. The scene takes place in front of Boston City Hall during an anti-busing demonstration which Ted Landmark (the pictured black man) was unfortunate to walk through.


Mr. Forman also won a Pulitzer for a picture he had shot a year prior to his picture of the flag. This picture (shown below) was taken at a fire in Boston, and while taking photos of the scene Mr. Forman took this photo moments after a fire escape gave way and sent the child and woman five floors to the pavement. The woman pictured died as a result of the fall while miraculously the child survived. As a result of this photo, which ran on the front page of the Herald American, Forman was characterized as an oppurtunist who chose to take pictures from safety instead of helping those in trouble. When in fact this very photo led to sweeping reform of Boston fire escape laws which have undoubtedly saved countless lives since.


The book itself is a fairly average book with a glossy cover that borrows heavily from the picture it chronicles. The font used for the title is in all caps with a paint splattering effect which leaves dots of color on the white background. It's simple and lacks originality mostly because the picture was not hard to find when the book is based on said picture.

In the end the photo itself and it's photographer are very interesting and warrant more interest on my part, but the book itself delves heavily into why the photo is visually compelling instead of simply leaving it to the reader to comprehend and providing the setting it was in (which it does but I feel the setting is lost in the details). In all likelihood I would not read this book if it were not for my class, mostly because I know the setting in which this picture took place and all I would need to see is the photo and a brief history of the actual event itself.

I feel like this post can not end so abruptly, so I'm going to dally for a moment.......wait for it........OK, now we can say goodbye.

GOODBYE!

What I Just Read: The Shoemaker and The Tea Party

As you may or may not know I have entered my final term at Northeastern University (Not Northwestern, unfortunately I am not that smart), and as one of my two final classes I am taking The History of Boston, which I am calling "Story Time take 2" (the first "Story Time" being America and the Sea). In this class like many classes out there we have to read books and the first book is The Shoemaker and the Tea Party by Alfred F. Young, and in the words of a Chicken Lou's cook "What could be more fun than Shoemakers and Tea Parties?"

As a matter of fact there probably far more things more interesting than Tea Parties and Shoemakers. George Robert Twelves Hewes, "The Shoemaker" mentioned in the title of this book, is the vehicle used by the author to show how the "Tea Party" changed to suit the political necessities of the day.

The analysis of the "Tea Party" is well done, even if it is slightly obvious. It is the biography of Mr. Hewes that irks me, it is mostly a regurgitation of two period biographies and a whole bunch of inference (second class this semester is logic btw). All in all I would call it weak, and Hewes a victim of circumstance and good genes and not all that deserving of a biography. The Tea Party thesis could easily be made without.

Fun Fact: Hewes named his 11th son, Eleven. Best "Boy Named Sue theory" name ever.

The cover looks and feels like a Borders Classics book, that is to say rushed and ugly. The inside of the book is average with period pictures through out.

Suffice to say I would never buy this book nor read it if I was not required to do so.

What I Just Read: The Discomfort Zone

Sorry, I've been busy. And when I am busy you the reader suffer. For that I apologize. That being said the situation will not be getting better anytime soon. That being said it will get better one random day when I decide I need to post 3 things I want you to know about it. That being said here is the review of The Discomfort Zone by Jonathan Franzen. That being said, enjoy.

Long, long ago, in a blog post slightly below this one there is a book cover review.

The Corrections were great because the story was ridiculous. The story opens up with pages dedicated to comparing Enid's need to hide mail from Alfred with guerrilla warfare. The later part of the book takes places in Lithuania and a military coup. It was hilarious because it was ridiculous.

Jonathan Franzen's real life, though funny at points is unfortunately not as ridiculous as his fictitious family life is in The Corrections. The book is broken down into anecdotal stories from his early years and one around his present self. They are funny and sad but more than anything the book opens a window into how he got ideas for his characters in The Corrections. His parents are milder, more humanizing versions of their fictional selves. The siblings are, as far as I can tell, varying versions of Mr. Franzen himself.

All in all it was a decent book with an amazing cover. Would I recommend you read it? No, only if you want to understand the thought process behind his writing The Corrections, and even then it isn't worth it that much.

As for news on the cover, I went looking for it. Northeastern did not have a copy of the magazine, so I submitted an order for a copy from any library that had it. On that order I said that a copy would only be of use to me if it was in color. I got this:

(Click on them and they give you a bigger more legible file)

When it comes to the Woman's heart that was much better than nothing at all considering I could not find a legible copy to begin with. Yet I wanted it in color to see the detail. Regardless my hunt is far from over. You will see a color copy with detail in the future. Mark my words.

Top 5: Things NOT to Say to an IM Official

If working for Northeastern Intramural Sports has taught me anything it has taught me how to take a whole lot of abuse from peers. As a result of that abuse I have come to look at the role of a referee in a new light as well as speculate as to how smart students who attend NU really are. What follows are 5 things you should never say to an IM official unless you are A) looking to make yourself look like an idiot or B) looking to get yourself banned from IM Sports and the Marino Center.


5. He hit me first!

Unfortunately I did not see him hit you first, if I had he would also have a penalty. And no I am not going to take your word for it, if I did that I would be calling a "penalty" on someone every 30 seconds. Besides that, did your mother never teach you about turning the other cheek and being the better person? Or maybe you learned about proportional responses? Sort of along the lines of being pushed to the ground and then turning around and slugging the guy in the face, I think that was not a proportional response on your part.

On top of that I have one set of eyes and unfortunately they both have to look in the same direction at all times. So yes I miss calls occasionally, it happens, get over it, losing a IM dodgeball game should not be up there with the murder of a family member.


4. Have you played Hockey before?

I love answering this question because in fact as a Hockey ref I have played hockey once or twice in my life (wowzers!), to be specific I have been skating since I was 2 and been playing Hockey since I was 4, so what's your next question Mr. Lipton? Do I know how to blow a whistle? Do I know how to lace up my skates properly? Do I sleep at night? Am I blind? I have a question for you: can you read? In particular the part of the rules where it says this is a "non-contact league". I don't care how hockey is played in the NHL because believe it or not this isn't the NHL and you aren't Sidney Fucking Crosby so stop whining like him and serve your two fucking minutes.

3. Shut the #%&@ Up! (and all manner of swearing thrown in my direction)

This one puzzles me; why would someone think it is all right to verbally abuse the person who controls their playing eligibility? It's liking bitching to a cop for a speeding ticket, what do you want a busted tailight and reckless driving tacked on? I can throw you out of this game for looking at me the wrong way (sadly I haven't found a pair of IM eyes I couldn't stare down) and no one from my boss to the President of the University would fault me for it. But yet you think it's ok to tell me to go fuck myself and how to do it? Do I look like the dumbest guy in the world to you? On second thought don't answer that question, just be quiet.

2. What's your name?

What are you going to do with my name? Complain to my boss about me? He likes me and he doesn't like you. More importantly he doesn't like people questioning the calls of his officials. So what on God's green earth do you think he is going to say to you, do you think he is going to fire me because my interpretation of a hooking penalty is a bit different then yours? I think not.

1. You want to fight outside after this is over?
This isn't as much of something not to say to a referee as much as it is a fear I have. I am waiting for the day when I'm walking down the street, ordering a beer at a bar, or grabbing a box of Cheeze-Its from the shelf at Shaws and suddenly someone blindsides me with their fist. And all that because they couldn't understand why I threw them out of a game for jumping over the boards and playing the role of Killer from Slapshot. It's going to happen, maybe not tomorrow and maybe not next year, but someday it is going to happen.


Just keep the audible noises from your throat to a minimum and behave like the decent human being your mother and father brought you up to be. That's all we ask.

What I Am Reading: The Hollow Hope

It appears as if The Hollow Hope by Gerald N. Rosenberg will have the privilege of traveling to Egypt with me I don't know if I feel the same way. It looks like it's going to be 431 pages of legal history, which happens to be one of the many reasons why I do not plan on going to Law School. Regardless it must be read so I can pass the very expansive and far reaching 10 question quiz to come in two weeks.

Also with this next book I would like to add something extra to the "before" post about each book, because in the end if I don't put much in either post I might as well just consolidate them into one.

With the explanation out of the way the new little tidbit in each post is going to pertain to what the book looks, feels and smells like. Here goes:

First of all, it is far too big; if The Underling can not palm the book then it is too big. Second with the glossy finish, sepia tone and highlighting this book feels like a textbook (which it is), the big second edition stamping doesn't help it's case either. All in all the book has a bad feel to it and looks like a fairly boring book.

Final Verdict: Would not by based on cover alone.

A Brief (but Lethal) History of Broomball

Broomball is a very large part of my life, not necessarily a part of my life that I particularly care about, but a large part all the same. I decided that you the readers should know a little more about what I spend most of my weeknights doing.

Pertaining to the NU version, Broomball is an absurd game that places many ill-footed individuals on a slippery surface, only to have them run willy nilly, this way or that way. The result is many a bruised body and ego.

Though all in all the results are never much worse than something that can be treated with a band aid or an ice pack. Never are they fatal.

But that has not always been the case, back in the days of yore when the game was known as Knattleikr to Icelanders, it was not uncommon for a Viking or two to die during game play. These ancient Broomball matches were usually played between whole villages and were known to last for up to 14 days.. Writer Hord Grimkellson once witnessed a game between Strand and Botn in which "before dusk, six of the Strand players lay dead, though none on the Botn side."

Now that is a version of Broomball I would be happy to officiate.

What I Just Read: A More Perfect Constitution

For The Underlings thoughts on the cover alone go here.

Though at times slightly heavy on the details, Larry Sabato's - A More Perfect Constitution is certainly a book that will make you think. Mr. Sabato poses many key questions and answers the majority of them with great insight and detail.

Sadly most people will never read this book and many who try will put it down after reading the back cover. This book and all books like it will forever be read by the elites of society, political scientists and their students, as well political junkies. The average American now known as "Joe Sixpack" will never read this. Sorry Mr. Sabato but I think you should have gone with a graphic novel.

I'll have the next book up sometime on Tuesday if all goes well, but school work and packing for Egypt may get in the way. In the meantime I will get back to reading for pleasure.

I Want My Money Back

I’m not one for using lyrics to express myself but in this case it’s just to hard to pass up. In the words of Ben Folds, give me my money back, give me my money back.....you bitch.

I Want My Money Back.

It’s been a little over a month since my classes started, and having taken a few tests and read a few books I think I can give me overall first impression of my classes. This is also my final full semester at NU (I have two summer sessions left) so naturally there is going to be some NU grumbling (A certified grumble has been spotted!) is to be had. Onward comrades!

Global Climate Change

It was this class, Dinosaurs or Natural Disasters in the running to fill my Natural World requirement. Natural Disasters was a class of 250, and Dinosaurs I have heard is not what it is advertised as, so I went with Climate Change.

So far I’m happy with my choice, knowledge has been learned and the reading easy. All in all I have received the education I expected; a bunch of facts I could have learned via a few hours of internet research. Go NU!

Spanish

I took Spanish instead of testing out of Italian (for my language requirement) because I thought it would be better to walk away with an understanding of Spanish rather than bullshitting my way into two years of Italian on my transcript. I knew it would be hard but I figured it would end up being a fruitful choice, and so far it has been, very good choice on my part.

That being said, is it the best use of my money towards learning a language? Probably not. For the amount of money I spend on tuition I could probably spend a month or two in a Latin American country and I would walk away from it with a much better understanding of Spanish. Or I could go to a more cost beneficial program (compared to the cost of tuition) at a Language Institute.

If it wasn’t for the language requirement for a BA at NU I would not be taking Spanish, but this was the best use of the 4 credits I could find.

Contemporary Black Politics

I went into this class thinking we would start off by talking about local black politics (Chuck Turner and the like) and the up and comers in national African American community (Jesse Jackson Jr, Cory Booker, Michael Steele) and the effect of Barack Obama on the political process, especially for African Americans. Sounds like an interesting class right? That’s what I thought and that’s why I took it.

Well instead it has turned out to be a history class, centering on slavery and the struggle of African Americans from Reconstruction to Civil Rights. All well and good but the class is call CONTEMPORARY Black Politics. For those of you who may be confused about it’s definition, I present it to you now.

Contemporary
adj.
1. Belonging to the same period of time: a fact documented by two contemporary sources.
2. Of about the same age.
3. Current; modern: contemporary trends in design.

No where in the definition does it say history.

Now I understand that one needs to put the current political climate into a historical context but do you really need to do so for a 2 months (effectively half the scheduled class time)? If I wanted to learn about slavery and the struggle for equality I would have taken a History of Black Politics class. Instead I took this class because I all ready know about slavery, W.E.B. Du Bois, Frederick Douglass, Malcom X and Martin Luther King. What I wanted to better understand is the current state of African American politics the post-Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton era. I want to talk about my local African American community, something I encountered on my last Co-Op (btw I will post something soon about the BRA) and the future of African American political thought process.

But know I am learning about slavery for the 5th time in my life.

Senior Capstone

Going into this class (a graduation requirement mind you) all I wanted to do was write a 25 page paper on a Political Science topic of my choice. I wanted to research something that interested me and end up with a sizable piece of writing in a field I could head into in the future.

Yes I was asking for a large paper and mundane lectures, you would think I would get what I wanted.

What I got was group led class discussions, a bunch of mediocre to terrible books to read, and a pair of book reviews. No 25 page paper.

Quick rant: What is the benefit of group projects. I get that in real world working on a team is common but that doesn’t translate well to group projects. In the real world there is a designated leader who gets paid more and has the qualifications to delegate tasks. In a classroom setting there is no incentives for one to be the leader, and those who do step up are hardly ever qualified. There I said it.

Back to our regularly scheduled program.

In a normal class room setting this isn’t a bad thing, but when the discussions come from all corners of the Political Science spectrum and your teacher is versed in only one of them it can end up being vague and misrepresented. Couple that with the fact that there are 65 Political Science majors in one room open to discussion there is going to be some problems.

First you have to understand that Political Science majors go on to be, among other things, lawyers, policy wonks, politicians and professors; all people who carry large opinions and enjoy discussing them (or in most cases, shouting them). So yes this class has been a bunch of know-it-all students shouting unfounded statements at each other while the professor tries to manage a volume of students that is too large for each subject.

For once in my life I am not one of the top 5 talkers in the room.

*****

Overall I’m disappointed, I expected more from this semester. So far all I have come away with is a bunch of facts I could have found from looking in a geology book and an understanding of the Spanish language I could have gotten (and then some) for cheaper by living in a Latin American country for a few months. I’m starting to think Will Hunting was right when he told that asshole from Harvard that he could get the same education with a library card and late fees.

That being said I should have seen this coming. I can count on one hand how many classes that I consider to have gotten my money’s worth out of. Not to mention I consider College to be a game in the way that High School was a game, just that this time I have to pay $40,000 a year for it.

What I Am Reading: A More Perfect Constitution

I have since finished this wonderful piece of work (I kid) read the review here.

With the completion of that awful book comes the start of Larry Sabato’s - A More Perfect Constitution. Besides being the book that my group project is centered around I actually was looking forward to reading this because I love “What If?” situations and revising things (usually things that don’t really need revising). What I am no looking forward to is the class discussion about this, come to think of it I hate every class discussion in that class.

Funny story. So in my Capstone class we have to do a group project on a range of topics, and I chose to be in the American government group, for obvious reasons. Within my group we had to pick a concentration, I chose state and local government for obvious reasons. Slight problem; my professor has a doctorate in state and local government.

Of inner city lakes, beer and Eric Lindros

I have said it before and I will say it again, I should have gone to school in Florida.

I know you people in Alaska, Minnesota, Canada, and Siberia (Scandinavia your standard of living is too high to complain) experience terribly cold winters, and I am sorry for that but you have nothing on New England weather. We may not get many below zero days as you do but in all do respect 33 degrees and sleeting is the worst experience in the world.

Yesterday started out as a decent winter day, high 20s and snowing. I'm ok with that, because snow is not wet, unless you get it inside your clothing. Of course the day didn't stay that way, not in land of 75 degree days in January! Oh no, because when I emerged from Spanish it was sleeting! I'm fine with the sleet itself, so what if I get soaked to the bone but at the same time I'm turning blue with cold, it's really the lakes that develop along the sides of each street. Lakes varying from 1 inch to 1 foot deep and because of all the icebergs floating on the surface you have no idea how deep they are until your leg is halfway submerged.

Needless to say the Odyssey back home, back to NEU, and then back home again was fairly taxing. On the journey I went through two coats, a pair of gloves, countless socks, two sweatshirts, and a pair of pants. Terrible right? Couldn't possibly get worse right?

Wrong!

Because that is only half of why days like yesterday are terrible. Days like yesterday include above freezing temperatures and rain which leads to the washing away of all the salt laid down throughout the course of the day. Then, as night arrives, the temperatures drop below freezing and because of the non-existent salt every surface freezes over. Including the sidewalk in front of my apartment.

Well as all of you know I supervise Broomball most nights during the week. This requires me to leave my apartment at about 9:30 PM.

Leave at precisely 9:30 PM I did just that, and about 9:31 PM I found myself lying flat on my back staring up at some guy with a case of beer in his hand saying "are you all right?"

Now this has happened only once before in my life (staring up from my back into someones face wondering how I got myself into such a predicament), and that is when I was 6. What happened? Let's just say there is a reason why at the YMCA pool (and most pools for that matter) they have signs that say RUNNING IS NOT PERMITTED.

Of course this time I got right up, made a few jokes with the guy about the ice and how maybe I should go get a case of beer and call in. Then I walked (carefully) down to Marino and made light of what happening, worked and then went home to sleep.

I'm starting to think that that last part was probably not a smart idea, because ever since the fall my head has been hurting quite a bit and I don't distinctly remember falling last night (just the lying on my back). Which would lead me to believe that I have a concussion, albeit probably a very minor one (still you shouldn't sleep after a concussion). If that was indeed a concussion like I think it was that would bring my total concussion total up to 5 (that being said only one two were severe in my opinion and two, including the one last night, are suspect).

In order they are:

- Pool incident (severe)
- Falling off of a 6 foot wall and slamming my head against the side walk and left me puking all night
- Being hit so hard into the boards in hockey that I blacked out for a few seconds (severe)
- Passing out while going pee in my upstairs bathroom, which resulted in me waking up with a pulsating skull from my head striking the toilet. The fainting occurred because I was immobile for about 2 hours or so watching Man on Fire (great movie) and then suddenly standing up and running up the stairs to go the bathroom.
- Finally last nights fall.

I'm a regular Eric Lindros aren't I?

That being said if I end up being a vegetable thanks to all my concussions New England weather can be partially to blame and can expect a phone call from my lawyer.

It's Cold Out

You may or may not have noticed but it's cold outside today, 14 F at this very moment to be exact (well as exact as weather.com can be, if its not exact blame them, or blame me if you like) and I expect it to be colder around 12:30 AM. You might be asking why it is I care how cold it will be at a time past midnight, and that would be a good question because I don't enjoy being out in single digits past midnight, not really something I enjoy doing. Something I enjoy doing at that hour is being asleep in my nice warm bed, that and eating mac and cheese, but I could really do that at any time, ay or night. Yet I am going to be doing as much tonight (or tomorrow morning for you calendar sticklers out there, you know who you are) because of a certain promotion I accepted that I am starting to think isn't really worth it if it entails having to walk the opposite direction from my apartment after work in frigid temperatures. But I will persevere tonight, because one will do anything to watch a bunch of Northeastern students play broomball.

That last sentence was a bold faced lie, I actually could go the rest of my life without watching a single broomball game and in the end that probably would still be too much broomball in my life.




PS Merlin Mann agrees with my sock theory. And Merlin if you are reading this thank you for bringing the theory to the GTD community.

Being the Boss Man

I have a confession to make; I like being the boss, I really do.

I know this blog is supposed to be about how I serve the man and do not have a sliver of autonomy anywhere in my working life, well that was true, then I got promoted.

Though I got promoted in the fall last night it all came to a head. Part of my promotion is that I am the “New Hires Coordinator” which means any problem that the 15-20 new kids we hired have, it is my responsibility to deal with it. Translation: Kevin has this weird mentor, boss type image in the eyes of these impressionable young men and women.

As interesting as that new position is it is not nearly as fun as being told by my boss that I am “too hands on” as a hockey/broomball supervisor. Translation: Kevin is doing a lot of delegating from the bench this semester. This of course went flawlessly last night. Everyone I told to do something, did it and with smiles on their faces. Though that may have been because of the four new people they all got to show up and make fun of, but we’ll see how it goes this evening.

This whole “Boss” thing is still quite new to me, and something I will keep you updated on as it progresses.

The thing about Co-Op is.....

They don't prepare you for the transition from the working world back to classes. They do everything in their power to push you out into the real world with a Co-Op but when you return you are expected to assimilate back into campus like you never left. Don't get me wrong, I love the Co-Op program and it is the reason why I decided on Northeastern over a much more affordable state school but there is nothing quite like the transition that takes place between the two spheres. For myself it has been over a year since a attended a class at Northeastern, what with my Co-Op and before that my study abroad program in Belgium I haven't set foot in a Northeastern classroom since last December.

A week ago I was waking up 5 days a week taking the T to my office and getting paid for 8 hours a day. Now I have class from 9 - 3 (which I pay for, instead of getting paid) in which I do more work than I would have on Co-Op. On top of that I will have homework which will fill up more of my time as well as a need to fill the void of my meager, yet weekly, BRA paycheck with hours of harder work at Borders and about equal difficulty (not saying much) work as an IM official. I never thought I would say this but being in the real world is significantly less stressful and much less physically demanding than being a student.

Many of you (many is not a word to describe the amount of readers I have but it's in the past now and we all know there is no going back) may scoff at such a notion but consider this. Every day I am incurring more debt through payments via loans to Northeastern and accruing interest on past loans while at the same time I am trying to pass the classes I am paying for the privilege to attend. On top of which I am working two jobs trying to keep from having to take out loans to afford to live on my own and feed myself.

As opposed to life working 40 hours a week. You go to work at 9, work, punch out at 5 and come home. No homework, no second job, just life. Granted it's not as easy as I just made it sound, but there is no University expense on top of that.

To put it bluntly, my lifestyle just changed overnight from a member of the global economy to a student with not enough time in the day to get by and my University, and life for that matter, expects me to just roll with it.

Old and In the Way

Today was just a day about feeling old. From seeing Freshman who look like little kids, to being the oldest person in my group of five in my Contemporary Black Politics class, to the first meeting of my Senior Capstone, to having graduation discussions it just made me wonder where the last 4 years of my life went. My last Co-Op felt like it lasted a week. Is this what life is all about? Time speeding up as your life goes on? Where does it all go?

Old Computer + Free Internet = Endless Possibilities

It is said that one does their best thinking while in the shower, I am now one to agree with that statement, and you my dear readers will benefit from todays shower for weeks to come.

Daniel has been suffering from his Mac conversion for about a month now, and in the past days it has morphed into something much more deadly and disturbing; a Mac-Torrent problem with a side of Comcastarits. We have discussed many remedies but none of them are feasible.

What I am now going to propose is the nuclear option, one that I think will become a popular one in these days of bandwidth limiting, RIAA, high energy prices, and old computers. What is needed is an old computer (preferably one with wireless) and access to a free internet connection (preferably a College one because they won't prosecute). You also must be prepared for the event that this machine is never recovered.

What you do is find a good hiding place for the machine on campus, set up the machine, hook it up to the internet, set up the torrents and walk away. You are using the school's bandwidth, the schools electricity and have no way to trace it back to you if you wipe the computer clean enough.

If your expertise are good enough you could try to access the computer remotely and control it away from the hiding spot, so you don't have to ever go back accept to load some torrents on the machine and possibly turn it back on again.

Now some one try this and get back to me!

Top Five: The Day of Days

The Underling does not enjoy last days at all. They make him paranoid, antsy, and above they bring about his Catholic Guilt. So in honor of his last day working for the BRA we are proud to bring you the Underlings top five most awkward/memorable last days. Today we will actually go in reverse to build up some excitement and intrigue!


5. Tie between working for my father and Northeastn Intramurals. I am still off an on with both so this doesn't really count but I needed a #5.

European Parliament: Stagiere to Pawel Piskorski:
There was really nothing awkward about this day other than the hug and good bye with Weronika and the obvious absence of my boss. What really hit me about this day was that I was leaving Belgium shortly there after, a place I could have spent the rest of my life and been happy about it. A very emotional day, the most emotional last day I have had, to say the least.

Enos Marine:
My first job ever and coincidentally it was my first last day ever! This last day was awkward because my boss thought that I should work for 2 more weeks and then go to college. I on the other hand thought that I needed two weeks to get my shit together and fully deal with the fact that I was moving on. She thought it was irresponsible, I thought it was normal. Regardless to this day it is difficult to talk to my old boss when I take my father's boat out.


Secretary of the Commonwealth Corporations Division:
I consider this awkward because I avoided saying good bye to every member of the Corporations division (40 people) on my way out. How I did that I have no clue, but it was glorious.

Woodman's of Essex:
This job takes the cake when it comes to awkward memorable last days. All in all it was a few last days wrapped into one because of all the titles I held here. What makes it so memorable is that at Woodman's it is tradition to be thrown into the lobster tank out front on your last day. I was no exception. The entire day I was a nervous wreck waiting to be thrown into the tank (which is something like 40 degrees Fahrenheit) while my co-workers kept snickering at me and making gestures that implied that I would be getting really wet later that evening.

Now I'm a good guy and if I don't say so myself a rather cute one, something that worked in my favor at Woodman's because at least half of the workers are High School girls. And on my last day that worked in my favor. With a few minutes before close a couple of the girls told me to leave and that they would punch me out so I could avoid getting dunked in the tank. I took them up on their offer and was out the door only to realize I forgot my regular shoes, which I had to go back for. That of course was my undoing. I was immediately grabbed and dragged out to the tank, at this point I decided I would not go down without a fight. I kicked my legs and swung my arms breaking someones glasses and knocking someone else to the ground, but to no avail, I went in the tank. I then drove home without any pants on.

My plan of leaving early would not have worked btw because earlier that day the other guys in the kitchen went out and blocked me in with their cars. That would have brought upon a situation where I would have waited out my co-workers until the wee hours of the morning then would have snuck off and called someone to come pick me up. Oh if only that had happened.

Thank you for the phone call Northeastern...

but I haven't had a final at NU in over a year now. But yes I will be sure to check MyNeu (that's another post onto itself) to make sure my non-existent finals are still where they were scheduled to be; my couch. Glad to see my $40,000 a year is wasted so well.

You Know I don't Speak Spanish

But I wish I did. Knowing it would have been pretty handy in knowing how to say "What city are you from?" "What is your ethnicity?" "Are you a U.S. citizen?" and "Is this your name?" today. Why was I asking such personal questions today? Well dear reader, The Underling was required to move amongst the working people today at Parcel 18 (the new NU dorm project).

We interrupt this post for an important side note!

Because I was moving floor to floor today I got to take a look at the new digs for the incoming Freshman, which were; a decent size single room with a private bath, a sizable closet and sink outside the shower/toilet area. I thought Freshman were supposed to be tortured their first year to then appreciate the quality of life from there on out, I know I was. Then again $5,000 a semester for those rooms might just be worse than torture.

Back our regularly scheduled program!

I was also forced to take the talking elevator (announces each floor) which was operated by an elevator operator who had decorated his tiny workspace with christmas lights and decorations.

I just spilled hot apple cider all over myself and the couch (the couch's first spill mind you) which means I will be finishing this post without any pants on. Just thought you should be aware that the first half of this post was written by a fully clothed Underling, the second half a pantless one. You decide which Underling you like better.

After this festive elevator ride came the point where I wish I knew Spanish. I was to determine where a group of floorers were from, and with the names "Mendozza, Romero, and Santos" I was convinced they were probably Latino and not Caucasian like their payroll department keeps telling me they are. I, of course was right, they were not white. Of course I could not verbally confirm this because none of them spoke English. That and their foreman was a Polish man who did not speak Spanish and only a heavily accented version of English (how they got work done is beyond me).

How would have me knowing Spanish helped me you ask? It wouldn't have, it would have been cool though. All I really needed to know was that these guys were Latino and that is fairly easy to determine when they all are a different shade than white and only speak Spanish (go instincts!).

Regardless of the usefulness of Spanish in todays situation I wish I had known it just to make sure they were not saying rude things about me. I mean I work for the government, so they probably don't like me much especially when I don't know Spanish, pull them off their work site, and bring into question their legal status. I know I would hate me.

When Girls Cry

I must admit I have made girls cry before, but usually it's because they were close to me. At least in all the cases I know of, I knew their name and we had been acquaintances for more than an hour. That was not the case on Tuesday.

I may or may not have mentioned this before but in addition to working for the BRA and at Borders I work as an Intramural Referee for Northeastern (I will post more about this some day) and have done so for over a year now. Tuesday was the finals for both Hockey and Broomball (a sport which deserves its own post in the future) which is always a fairly nerve racking shift because adrenaline is high and people really want that Championship T-Shirt (the lengths they go to for a shirt).

On this day I am tasked as supervisor (yeah I'm not much of an Underling at this job, oops) to collect all the IDs. Well as it happens a girl meekly comes up to me as I am collecting Husky IDs and checking off their names on the rosters and she says;

Girl: "Is there anyway I can play without my ID, I lost it today and didn't have a chance to get a new one"

Me: "I'm sorry but it is University policy that all players must turn in a NU ID in order to play"

To this she starts to tear up and I'm just standing there shouting on the inside "Oh god please please please please don't cry!"

But she does.

A lot.....

And I don't know what to say, she cannot play, it is University policy, there is nothing I can do short of something getting me fired. And I understand why she can't, there is too much liability at stake for us to let her play. I feel like shit, but rules are rules. The worst part about it was that I knew she had been thinking about it from the moment she couldn't find her ID. She had been dreading the moment when she would walk up to the man with IDs (in this case it was me) and ask if she could still play. Now her mind was probably about 95% sure that she couldn't play but there was probably 5% that thought that maybe she would get someone to fudge the rules and let it slide, which is why she still came to the game and asked if she could play. It is because of that 5% that she didn't cry until the moment when I converted that 5% of hope into 5% of despair (Just call me the destroyer of hope, the Anti-Obama). I made her cry. Without me there would have been no crying that day. That is how I interpretted that situation.

Northeastern, where you spend $40,000 to make girls cry!