Democracy, alive and well

With less fanfare and significantly fewer tears than in 2008, I walked the two blocks from my house to the neighborhood school that doubles as my polling station.  As the chilly, 7:30 am sun crept higher in the sky, a long line of residents in DC's Ward 4 gathered to vote.  Over an hour and a half later, my warm winter coat, hat, gloves, and scarf could not keep my toes from going numb (nor could they prevent the parking ticket that appeared on the windshield my car for "failure to properly affix registration stickers").

On a day when Nate Silver makes dizzyingly positive predictions about the national election and when I learned, to my great relief, that my mom voted in favor of same sex marriage in Maryland, it is difficult not to feel optimistic about the possibilities to come. No matter who prevails tonight, however, I simply hope that he leads our citizens forth to success, security, and opportunity; that he projects humility, confidence, and intellectual curiosity; and that he conducts our foreign affairs in a way that earns the respect and admiration of the world.

My feet are still cold, but I feel great.  Like the broad cross section of society present at the polls this morning, I proudly took part in the most important of civic duties.  That alone is reason to smile.

Along the shores of the Bosphorus

About a year ago, I bought an impromptu ticket to visit Istanbul between Christmas 2011 and New Year's Day 2012.  Though the city and, more broadly, Turkey both deserve a much longer visit, we packed as much as we could into a short time.  One of the most relaxing things we did during these busy few days was to take a cruise along the Bosphorus Strait, the body of water that slices through the city and separates the European side from the Asian.

The cruise lasted all afternoon, but the highlight was the sweeping view of the sunset over the spires and minarets of Sultanahmet, the Old City.  Cliched as it may be, there is something undeniably contemplative and peaceful about watching the world's progression from day to night.  From the warm light and long shadows of late afternoon spring vibrant streaks of orange, crimson, and purple before all gives way to a graceful darkness, like the soft, inevitable lowering of the curtain after an engaging performance.  And in that reflective moment, all is beautiful, and heartbreaking, and good.

Blue line to Houlton

This map, posted on a website called Visual.ly is a graphic look at America's major interstates, represented as numbered subway lines.  Very compellingly done, in my opinion.  Also, for some reason, visualizing highways as commuter train lines seems to shorten sprawling cross-country distances into very manageable journeys.  As in: if I just hopped on the Blue Line toward Houlton and transferred to the Green Line in Boston, I could be in Seattle in no time.

To see a larger, higher resolution copy, visit Visual.ly directly and click on the map.

An early spring

It is now officially spring, though, judging by the weather, winter checked out sometime around the end of February.  Aside from the occasional rainstorm, we have had three weeks of nearly perfect weather.  I can't remember the last time that's happened, in any season.

Despite the apparently nasty, cascading ecological consequences of a warm, nearly snowless winter, I am basking in it for the moment.  And, in our backyard, the lack of cold has had a bonus effect on last year's garden: the parsley, arugula and rosemary survived and are now thriving in all of their spring glory.

Our rosemary has actually survived a couple years now - I think it is quite hardy, though its size is limited by the shallow window box that it calls home.  But parsley is not supposed to be a year-round plant.  I should not be able to walk out the backdoor with a dusting of snow on the ground in January and fetch a handful of fresh parsley to garnish a pot of lentil soup.  Yet I cooked with it throughout the winter and here it is, standing tall and approaching bush-like vitality in March.  Let's see if my brown thumb can keep it alive through the actual growing season.

Parsley: Too Bushy for March

Dinner with some true loves

To celebrate Valentine's Day, my roommates and I sat down for a candelit dinner with some of the true loves of our lives: meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  Broccoli tagged along too, just for kicks.

All that we see or seem

As I've noted before, I love when I am up early enough to hear the Writer's Almanac.  The poignant poem for today, Edgar Allan Poe's "A Dream Within a Dream," nearly brought me to tears in the car.  Although, maybe that says more about me than the poem.

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream

And isn't the music beautiful?  Rest in peace, Jim.

On planes and seeing the world

With a giant hat tip to Andrew Sullivan, whose Mental Health Break posts have connected me with so many beautiful, contemplative videos over the past several years, here are two more pieces that are sweeping in scope and imagination.  Also, for aesthetic purposes, though I am posting this on January 9, I am going to back-date it to December, before I left for Istanbul, because I did not have any new entries that month and I am a little neurotic about that.



Heliotropes (2010) from Michael Langan on Vimeo.

The quirks that make the world go 'round

I spent some time, a couple of weeks ago, skimming this forum, where an American novelist had asked for help from foreigners to identify quirks that might stand out to first time visitors to the United States.  The cascade of responses are at times blatantly stereotypical (frequent laments about guns, portion sizes, loud voices, and car culture) but, for the most part, subtle and quite fascinating.  I had no idea, for instance, that Americans are often perceived as broadly friendly and smiley, almost to a fault.

As many posters point out, the vast size of the US leads to a wide variety of regional differences.  Similarly, the concept of what is unusual differs greatly depending on where a foreigner is from.  On this bright, sunny afternoon of my favorite holiday, I am grateful for the intricate web of customs, settings, and attitudes that make America (and every other country) so enthrallingly unique.  It simultaneously makes the world an infinitely more interesting place to explore and helps reinforce the comfortable, deeply ingrained sense of home that comes from being among familiar surroundings.

Happy Thanksgiving.  Below are some excerpted observations, ranging in tone from wondrous to bemused to pure, unadulterated snark.

I was startled to find out that "God Save the Queen" has alternate lyrics.

In general, the scale of things is boggling to Europeans for a while and continues to be boggling in small ways for a long time. Fridges are HUGE compared to upright or under-the-counter European fridges. The default size for milk is the gallon, not the pint. Endless agonizing choices in the supermarket -- which of these 30 types of canned beans do I want now? Roads that feel twice as wide as they should be. Bank lobbies the size of railway stations.

Cities where streets follow a grid. And almost all streets allow cars. As a European I'm accustomed to look for the city center; a place where there are no cars, where streets are meandering, where there are terraces to sit outside and have a coffee. A place that's amenable to walking, to hanging out and enjoying the atmosphere. I did not find such a space in the american cities I've been to. And it prevented me from enjoying the place.

You don't need to drive far from a major city like SF to reach endless expanse of nature. Amazing.

That they probably have the best customer service culture in the world, but can rapidly descend into being the most aggressive if challenged.

I would also reiterate that customer service people here must be super well trained or something, because they are uniformly pleasant and helpful. Every person seems to take a lot of pride in their work, the US is definitely a very strongly work-centric culture. People seem to talk a lot more about slacking off, than actually slack off.

"Uh huh" is an appropriate response to "thank you"

The blatant patriotism displayed by Americans is disconcerting to Britons. There are Stars & Stripes everywhere and it's seen as perfectly normal to display the flag on your home.... The flying of the Cross of St George is more usually associated with right-wing sympathy to the British National Party than a display of patriotism or national pride.

Everyone complains bitterly about the suckitude of government and is suspicious of it but they all follow the rules anyway even if nobody is watching.

A readiness to order pizza at 10 p.m. although one has had a full meal at 6:30.

People ask "How are you?" as a casual greeting, but no one really cares how you are. He feels like it's too personal of a question to ask a stranger and doesn't like the insincerity of it.

People will often say "we should get together" or "you should come over sometime for dinner" but don't actually mean it, they just say it to be polite.

General ignorance about other places and cultures, and how awful many native English speakers are at reading/writing/speaking their one and only language, yet have little tolerance for non-native speakers who may speak several other languages.

When Americans kid one another, they will wait a few seconds and then let the kidee know that they were just kidding. Every time. This shocked me for a while.

Saying "hil-ar-i-ous" out loud instead of laughing.

 American drivers are far more likely to stop and let a pedestrian cross the road, even when there is no marked crossing. Possibly due to the novelty of seeing someone on foot.

Striking up conversation with strangers, smiling at strangers, sharing stories and knowing/ empathizing looks with strangers. This also throws me for a loop, especially all the smiles and random hellos. Cheerfulness is an indefeasible social onus. On the other hand, people in the U.S. are in my experience very polite when it comes to staring (i.e. not doing it).

Americans are social optimists. They assume all interactions will be pleasant until they are not.

On the upside, the readiness of American people to explain something to you or show you how some weird contraption or gadget works - things simple to a american but that a european might have never seen - without seemingly poke fun or look down at you is very heart warming. So, lack of cynicism and apparent moral generosity are the greatest American qualities as far as I'm concerned.

People not realizing that a lot of the rest of the world puts the day first then the month, so when I first got here someone asked me if we had 17 months in Australia when they saw my drivers license.

I have been introduced to people from as wider ranging places as India, Mexico, Trinidad and Italy with what seemed the assumption as we were all from this strange place called "overseas" we'd all know each other or have something in common.

Everything is new. I'd never experienced a physical craving for old buildings before visiting the US! Possibly related: I got the impression that 'the past' is more recent in the US, events in living memory are seen as 'historic'.

The silly warnings on products to prevent lawsuits.
Lawyers have much more cultural cachet than in almost any other country. The idea that lawyers are on a par with doctors as far as people with high-class occupations

There are so many straight lines on maps in the US. When I first came here as a kid (while my parents were in graduate school), we studied the US map in school and I remember being astounded that it literally looked like someone had used a ruler to mark off the state boundaries. Most other places have much more irregular edges.

Paradoxically, although you guys have this disgustingly puritanical attitude to alcohol, when I go into an American bar and ask for a shot of scotch I get a major shot of scotch. I love the way you just put a glass down and fill it instead of measuring a miserly 1/6 or 1/4 gill shot via an optic.

The comparative difference in pickpocketing / theft. In Europe, you leave a bag somewhere, or your wallet at a bar, and you'll just never see it again. People just seem to have their eyes open for an easy score; and someone will have spied it and grabbed it no question. In the U.S. its very likely that someone will turn it in, or figure out a way to return it.