Uncategorized

There’s an old rumor that you can’t find clocks or windows in Las Vegas. The story goes they removed them after realizing people’s gambling behaviors changed based on their perception of time. As the night wound towards day the behavior became less tame. This feels true, as do so many of the other Vegas myths I’ve encountered over the years.

This isn’t my first or even fourth trip to grown up candy land. I’ve spent enough time here to recognize that you’re not meant to be who you actually are when on the strip. Inside these massive hotels they pump you full of sweet smelling air and high energy music as a reminder that even if you’re losing you are still having a great time at it.

To hear it from people in the know, Vegas isn’t even about the gambling anymore. All the serious betting in in Macao. Vegas is about partying and drinking and distancing yourself from reality to the extent that you’ll do things that would otherwise seem asinine to consider. My Vegas is fun and drinks and penny slots and learning Paigow with friends. My Vegas is built on people watching and smiles and hoping something interesting unfolds around me.

The last time I was here I ran into a girl about to make a life changing choice about whether or not to meet in person with a guy from the internet she came to the hotel to meet. I still wonder if I steered her right. I wonder too at the number of bachelor, bachelorette, and even wedding parties I see are aimed down the road of forever marriage, or like so many of us doomed to shatter on the rocks life and choice.

Tonight before coming upstairs to type this blog I saw a young girl kissing her boyfriend and smiling. She looked smitten. He looked tired and I questioned how long it would take for them to reverse roles. Love and Vegas and life itself are beasts of momentum. There is great joy when the momentum is behind you, but when it shifts or dies, life can be rough trade.

But cheer up. There will always be good music, sweet air, and a pretty lady to dash by and drop a drink into your hands.

For the first time in ages I’m off on walkabout without a due date hanging over my head. This first day has been expensive amazing, largely because I can relax. I don’t need to put on airs or hide in a corner trying to work. Escape–real escape provides clarity. It is helping me get a better grip on what I want to do with myself, life, etc.

I’m not going to hash that out here and now.

I want to focus on now on enjoying video craps and learning the joy of table games. Life is going well. I suppose being well adjusted to the summer is par of that.

There isn’t a whole lot for me to say. I can put that on the late hour of the post, or the limited experiences the summer often brings or anything but I think it boils down to this: Sometimes there just isn’t a thing to say. I think this is what curses a lot of writers. Once successful there is an expectation of continued publication. We’re expected to drum out story after story, often of the same character. This is exhausting and, frankly, before too long you don’t have anything to say.

My situation is far less dramatic than that. Its more of a reflection of over analysis. I’ve spent a few days now with my eyes wide open to how the media is starved of actual news and working hard to make anything a story. This is particularly true of the sports media. You’ll see the lack of AC at the AT&T center unfold to conspiratorial proportions, just like every well-crafted soundbite develops into a ‘bulletin board’ material or some sort of character judgement on the player who spoke.

So, instead of trying to force out more well tread words, I’m going to do what I believe the media should do…

Shut up for a bit and think of something useful to say.

Once upon a time there was a news channel that provided a strong bit of news about everything going on in the world. That little news station blossomed into a worldwide franchise and powerhouse capable of directing the attention of a significant portion of the wired world. Then one day the news company looked around and realized they were not alone. There were others out there, lining up on opposite sides of the political spectrum and anxious to swallow up a plethora of viewers interested in hearing a story that coincides with their opinions and feelings about reality.

Our little news channel said, ‘We will not do this.’

They closed their eyes and ears and kept telling the stories they kew needed to be told. Sadly, as they kept themselves closed off, the world moved on. In time there was a whole new crop of people born and raised and connecting to the world in new ways. CNN has no idea who they are or how to reach them. My evidence of this? It started with months of senseless over coverage of  MH 370 and coalesced around today’s report on slenderman.

According to CNN, the 2 girls who bruttaly stabbed a 12 yr old classmate might have being making a sacrifice to Slenderman. Worse still, they admittedly knew little about the creature, how it functioned or when it became such a cult monster. I knew. My kids tipped me to slenderman, but even before then I knew slenderman was the inspiration for the Enderman in the Minecraft game. I also know that most kids don’t hide in closets devising ways to pray to this new God of terror. CNN has provided enough coverage to make me suspect they think a lot of  kids do pray and plan sacrifices to this new evil.

He ain’t new. He ain’t much of anything, really. In truth He is another example of CNN reaching for the next big story and coming up with a jumble of nastiness. It isn’t real news.If I want real news that is tapped into the zeitgeist I turn to vice.com or even the vice TV show on HBO. CNN is brain dead to me. Erin Burnett is the reason to keep that sucker on life support, and even she is hampered by the ridiculous message of the channel.

I’m having a tough time accepting the assertion that racism in America is on the decline–if not gone altogether. I get the surface argument: We elected a black president. True, but in the electing we neglected the reality of his mixed heritage. We call him black as a label. We call him muslim as a stereotype and offer repugnant humor as a reflection of the stereotypes he (mostly) refuses to meet (i mean the dude does play basketball). We can’t get past the long history of American racism with one election. We also can’t do it in under 100 years of equal rights.

The problem is that a lot of people in charge (either financially or politically) represent an era where racism thrived. We haven’t shed ourselves of the old guard–the people who grew up with this mentality or come from parents of this mentality and have not found the will to change. This takes time, but it won’t do us any good to have the time if we continue to cater to that mindset. The old guard is being represented in the electorate. Consider the upcoming presidential election. The only Republican candidates of color being mentioned are either completely devoid of the ethnicity that they supposedly herald (see Ted Cruz) or are caricatures of the racial stereotype (see Herman Cain).

That brings me, finally, to Mr. Sterling who is suing the NBA for a billion dollars (which, if he wins, raises his haul to 3 billion off a mostly crappy team only made relevant because Stern wouldn’t let the Lakers have CP3). The money people are still protective of each other, and with so many still being racists, we cannot say racism is dead in America. So long as Ann Coulter gets precious hours of airtime we cannot say that racism is dead in America.

So, it aint dead. Lets keep trying to kill it.

 

 

I’m terrified of standardized testing.

It comes from having a 9 yr old son that believes Ralph S. Mouse lives near the top of his Lexile spectrum. Now this technically puts him either behind target for 5th grade or spot on for going into fifth. Factor in the dyslexia, and you have a recipe for a kid about to enter a world of learning that can quickly landslide into a world of hurt.

He doesn’t much care for reading and only does so through force of Dad or school or both. It is hard, and like all kids he abhors hard work the way nature abhors a vacuum. He will work hard at sports because it is fun and he is good at it. Sometimes math falls under that same category. Reading is a chore. He abhors chores.

Putting aside the fact that I’ve used abhor three times (four!) already, I believe it is my responsibility to culture him to being a reader before it is too late. 5th grade feels like that line. He is about to hit middle school and the testing is about to rip his learning world apart. Standardized testing fails to take into account social pressures, socialization, and any disabilities the kid may have. The tests are meant to reach the widest baseline audience so they fail anyone that falls off that baseline for whatever reason. They don’t make sense, as this lovely Onion skit shows. There are alternatives–ask Kentucky. However, we aren’t built for that. We are a country that claims to be about individuality but is built for one size fits all.

I’m scared of standardized testing. I’m scared of what it means for my son’s future as a learner and as someone who believes in himself. I want to see him succeed confidently. I’m starting to believe that I’m going to need to find other ways to make that happen.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. Game of Thrones took it to the next level in graphic violence last night. Call me a wuss, but I cared about the character in question, so I’ll be carrying that image with me for some time. It reminded me of the worst gang violence i’ve seen–either personally or through the net. More jaded souls might say, “meh. It was average.” I consider myself lucky that it was not.

In another few days I’ll be refreshed and prepared to dive back into serious writing. This calm that follows the completion of a major project is a wonderful thing. I’ve spent my hours being creative in a variety of new ways. I’ve been playing with the boys, creating games and designing cool graphics and story to support the gaming. MarioKart is in full swing, the pool is open and exciting, and Youth basketball is only days away. I made a few graphics for that (not the Pacers. I still cannot bring myself to fully support the Pacers. Might as well throw a Cowboys Jersey on me while you’re at it).

The key of it all is a profound joy for daily life. The summer workload is lighter, giving room for a much needed recharge. I get, if only for a brief moment, a chance to pause and reflect. Pause and catch fire. Take the mental time to self-evaluate and then charge back into the world ready to explode.

I’m convinced that the majority of people need only a purpose and a firm backbone–be it their own or some external motivator keeping them active and pushing towards that goal. I’m equally convinced that most of us don’t have that. We have a few years of hard action and then we pause. That pause stretches into days, weeks, years, until we forget what it even felt like to drive hard towards a goal, to want to be better, to feel happy and engaged.

Pause. Just don’t forget to hit play afterwards.

2 billion dollars is a ridiculous sum of money. In terms of the value of sports franchises, 2 Billion far exceeds the value of any other basketball franchise. In fact, in order to form a valid comparison I had to look at football and baseball franchises. The Dallas Cowboys are valued at 2.3 Billion. The New York Yankees are valued at 2.5 billion. The New England Patriots are valued at 1.8 billion–less than the Clippers who have never won a championship. In fact, they’ve only made 10 playoff appearances with a lifetime 38.2% win percentages (find the best.com). What does this all add up to?

Well for starters it means the clippers win at a lower percentage (38.2) than the San Antonio Spurs shot (40) in their last playoff win. If we compare the Spurs and Clippers, the Spurs have appeared in 3 times as many playoffs and average 2,000 more fans per game. The Spurs make nearly $11.00 more per fan than the Clippers, yet the team is valued at $660 Million–more than 3 times less than the Clippers sold for. What does that tell me?

It tells me that racism pays.

I don’t presume that the Sterling tape was a set up. It is possible that his estranged wife collaborated to release the tape and thus find him in a position to sell the team and for her to make a crazy profit. It isn’t that far fetched. We also know that there were people so jacked to by a franchise that they helped to push the bid up to 2 billion dollars. The Lakers and Knicks are valued at 1.35 and 1.4 billion respectively. In fact, you could by the Lakers and the Celtics combined for little more than was shelled out for the Clippers.

Sterling made out like a bandit–nay, a Real Estate Baron, which is exactly what he is.

Forgive me if this is short.

When I close my eyes to blink the counter timer says one thing. When they open again minutes have faded into history. I’m that tired. It is a fine fatigue though. I’ve earned it by playing with my kids, going out with friends, and finally being unshackled from my latest writing project. I’ve gotten into the mode of putting things to bed. This burst of productivity feels like it comes from a dam that is no longer willing to be stuffed up.

When it starts to flow, there are many opportunities fro creativity. The key is to not get overwhelmed and to think about the details that matter the most.

I’ve been sending myself texts–cryptic messages 140 characters long and revealing bits of story trapped up in my head and anxious to be released. My life feels life that these days–cryptic moments trapped in routine and anxious to be released. In my line of work summer allows a particular level of freedom that cannot be replicated in a 9-5 setting. The last few years have seen this freedom slip away, through responsibilities and tragedies. It wears on me. It builds up like a thick plaque until I’m unable to recognize how far from relaxed and alright I really am.

Tonight I put a piece of work to bed that I’d been fretting over for months. I could not find a way to get over the hurdle of the last few pages. I have no reason for why this happened. It is less Writer’s Block than burnout than an urgent need to step away and fill my mind with new material.

Tomorrow I’m going to buy a video game and sit down with my kids and play as if I am one of them. Near the surface I am one of them, and I’ve dressed in my grown up clothes for way too long.