Reinforcement

I recently returned from a week and a half stint at home, which was a welcome change to my complicated and unorthodox life in New York. I returned to welcome back a little normalcy into my life, even though there is absolutely nothing normal about my family life. Maybe it's that chaos that I so lovingly cling to.
Anyway, whenever I go home, I get better-than-expected treatment from my family. I can't believe that they miss me that much, but when I get home, everyone kind of lays out the red carpet for me, which is nice, but definitely not necessary. I was supplied with a car to drive around while home, a week-long stint of employment, cash, several lunch and dinner invitations, new shoes, new contact lenses (I ended up not going the LASIK route, due to my lack of insurance and the recent hike in price), and some emergency dental surgery. I'm now running on 3/4 wisdom, so if my blog entries seem a little dim, that's the reason why.

I get spoiled like no other when I'm at home, and the treatment continues even when I'm so far away. I am remembered by my family and apparently thought of very highly, despite my distance. Of course, I have nothing but gratitude and appreciation for my family and its love for me. I am satisfied contentedly by their mere company when I'm at home. I love spending time with them all. Each day is a wonderful and momentous occasion, and I do not look forward to the time when I do not have them any more.

Seeing everyone at home does something else for me when I turn around and depart again. My family's love and support reinforces in me the ideals I had when I first left town for New York and recalls in my mind the reasons and goals I have yet to achieve in finding my career and my place in society. I know I have an immense family support system and I am very fortunate to have that. I know that should I fail in my endeavors, I will have a home to return to, and if need be, a family I can lean on. I also know that I have a fan club that has an expectation of me to make them proud. While this puts a certain amount of pressure on me, it also inspires me, as there is no group of people who I would rather make proud of me.

While I am away and I have the support of my family, though, it brings up certain questions in my mind. The support of my family is terrific and very welcome, but how necessary is it? Without their support, would I be able to survive on my own? And at what point should I break free from it and truly be on my own?

It comes into play when one thinks about what is better for raising children and their maturation into adulthood. Is it better to continue to support them until they make their way on their own, or is it better to drop them in the pond and force them to learn to swim from scratch and fight their own way to the top? If you yourself are at the top, at what place do you drop off your children? The bottom? The middle? Somewhere between the middle and the top? This, I feel, could be a very worthwhile debate. While it could be very easy for a parent and family to feel sympathetic to their children to not have to go through the same trials and tribulations they did, it might actually be harmful to the children's upbringing and attitude and perspective. On the other hand, letting your kids go with nothing to fend themselves with than their own brain and natural abilities could result in disaster, leaving them socially paralyzed or in hatred of their family.

It is a tough debate, and I don't exactly know where I fit in. As I feel like an adult most of the time, I feel like I can contribute to society and deserve a place in it. There are times, however, when I naturally revert to childlike behavior and cannot find the will to maintain my adulthood. I definitely feel it is time for me to fly away, so to speak, and I'm a lot better off getting my last push from my family, but there is still a lot of ground to cover on my journey.

Harry Potter

I recently saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix multiple times. It was so intriguing that I had to see it twice. I came to this conclusion.

The Harry Potter series, or as I've come to think of it as the characters get older, Magic Friends, seems to be becoming more predictable as they get into more adult problems. Sure, when they were children it was all cute and dandy, these children go to school to be trained as little wizards and witches. How adorable! But now that they're getting into their teen years and they're growing up dealing with more adult problems, it appears more like an episode of Friends, except they all do magic.
They have to deal with tension and situations between members of the opposite sex. They are trying to start dating and what not, but it's so awkward because they're all teenagers and they're all so fresh and inexperienced. And it just makes it all the more awkward that they all do magic.

Awkward Pimply Teenage Wizard: "Hey, Beth, do you want me to help you practice your spells after class?"

Awkward but Curious Teenage Witch Who We Now Know is Named Beth: "Tee hee! Sure!"

Awkward Pimply Teenage Wizard: "You can use my wand if you want. Huh, huh!"

Angst! Youth! Magic!
Give me a break.
The magic makes it a little more interesting than Friends, as they don't sit around in a coffee shop all day talking about each other and each other's love lives. But they do sit around in their common room, talking about what spells and what villains they have conquered and how the administration keeps them down. I don't know, I just feel like I've seen it before.
Here we are, five years into the series, and we just see the same characters as we have before, getting into predicaments and solving their problems, one episode at a time, except it takes a year for a new episode to come out. Every once in a while, a guest star will come in and play a disposable character for a movie.
"Next week, on Harry Potter, Howie Mandell stops in as the new Professor of the Dark Arts, but a new evil is lurking around, how long will he stay?!"

But then, when Howie Mandell shows up, the ratings soar, so they invent this story about how his character starts sleeping with one of his students, and then this whole drama ensues, including a court case, and a trial, and they get Billy Dee Williams to play the judge, and everyone knows how the verdict is going to turn out because as an African-American he doesn't like magic, but he can't feel too slighted because he was cast in two major science fiction superpower movie franchises. We all know how it's going to end.

I like Harry Potter, and as a business franchise, you have to commend J.K. Rowling for building it the way she did. It is brilliant. But as all science fiction entrepreneurs have discovered, the key to a successful science fiction franchise is installments. Look at Star Trek, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Lord of the Rings, and to a lesser extent the Matrix. Installments are key. The average science fiction fan has an attention span far greater than that of a typical blockbuster movie-goer. And they have unprecedented loyalty. Not only that, but in the realm of science fiction, the author really is unlimited. No limits of reality hold their imaginations within the locked gates of nonfiction. If they come to a stopping point, they can just come up with a creative offshoot or way to keep going. J.K. Rowling predicted her limit at the very beginning at seven books, and she has probably made enough money to live comfortably for quite a while, but ultimately, if she needs some extra cash somewhere down the road, book number eight could be right around the corner, and the public will just eat it up.

As much as I do enjoy the Harry Potter series myself, I have some beef with it. The kids in school, though they might have to pick up the more difficult parts of life such as magic spells and fighting for your life against dragons at the age of thirteen, they get spoiled with some of the simpler things in life, and I, for one, do not find it fair. The children at Hogwarts don't have to learn the simple tasks of taking their papers and passing them back to the people in the desks behind them. At Hogwarts, the children's books and papers just float to them magically. Meanwhile, all of us muggles are going, "Back in my day, we had to pass each other's papers back to each other." Hogwarts children don't have to deal with packing or cafeteria food or getting picked last for kickball. If they get into trouble, they just call on their brooms and fly away.
And while all of us were in fourth grade reading our Goosebumps, we were all just wishing we had a Hogwarts to go away to every fall. And now kids these days have got their Harry Potter and their magical merchandise, and they're just rubbing it in people of my generations' faces. At least that's what it seems like to me from a Hollywood-generated two-hour movie perspective. I'm still blissfully unaware of the reading involved with following the book series. I'm sure there's far more character and plot development than the movies can do justice for. But my point still stands that these kids don't know how easy they've got it in this day and age. When I was a boy, I had to shovel ten feet of snow before I could even think about boarding the train to "magic school". And so forth. And it wasn't even a train, it was just a Magic School Bus, and all that ended up being was a lousy PBS series. I guess that wasn't so bad, but you know what I'm saying. These kids are spoiled.

Lollapoliteness!

Lollapalooza was a new experience for me. It was something that I had never been to before. I didn't quite know what to expect, so thusly, I got out of it way more than I had expected. Lollapalooza is a three-day music festival, primarily rock music, that takes place in Chicago's Grant Park. Grant Park is a beautiful space, right on Lake Michigan, in the heart of downtown Chicago. It is a great place to take in a concert, if one happens to be so lucky, but more so, it is a perfect vantage point to take in the heart-warming skyline of Chicago. It really is terrific. Of course, a concert event like Lollapalooza, which draws hundreds of thousands of people, needs a large enough space to be able to contain them all, which Grant Park does very nicely.

When I first arrived, which was on Saturday afternoon (Day 2, I skipped Day 1), the first thing I marveled at was how many porto-potties there were scattered around the park, and secondly how clean they were. I was told later that the Lollapalooza cleaning crew stays up all night cleaning every area of the park (collecting trash/recyclables, wiping up vomit, and, yes, cleaning the porto-potties each night) in preparation for the next day's events, which I found remarkable. Not as remarkable, though, as the four-tiered poles of waterless hand-sanitizer dispensers that were found outside the porto-potty stations. They really thought of everything.

The weekend's events started on a pretty remarkable note, besides that of even the cleanliness of the porto-potties. And that is, that I met Thom Yorke. If you know who Thom Yorke is, then you know how important he has been to music in the past 10 or 15 years, or however long Radiohead, his brainchild, has been on the scene. It was truly unbelievable, and I'm not quite sure I believe it myself, since the whole event occurred rather randomly, as one might expect. Thom Yorke is a known recluse and a pretty peculiar guy, so to say that he was just walking around a highly populated music festival in Chicago in the middle of the summer would be more than slightly out of character for a person of his reputation. Having not seen many pictures of him, especially recently, or not knowing that much about him except for the fact that I love his music, I went along for the ride. The excitement of the nearby crowd at the sight of seeing Thom Yorke got us excited, and so my cousins Jordan, Tyler, and I walked up to him and asked to get our pictures taken. We did. Twice. We shook hands. We exchanged a few words to the extent of, "Thom, thank you for making music." To which Thom replied, "Thank you for supporting. Have you heard my new album yet?" Since I indeed had and it was one of the things I listened to most last summer, I said, "yes". "Good," he said, "listen to it. Especially track 3." And then he casually walked away with his security and video crew by his side.

Jordan, Tyler, and I were a little understandably starstruck from this encounter, all three of us being big Radiohead fans, and we continued on our way contemplating if, in fact, that was the real Thom Yorke. As it does seem unlikely that Thom Yorke would be walking around Lollapalooza, a major event where thousands, or at least hundreds of people would surely recognize him, it seems more unlikely that a stooge would dress as Thom Yorke, imitating his weird behavior, English accent, and characteristic lazy eye with a camera crew, merely for a laugh. But then again, this is 2007, and a lot of people have gained a lot of attention pulling those kinds of high-dollar pranks of people involving celebrity talent (Thanks Ashton!). It was said that Thom was there to perform with Muse later that night, which he did not, making the situation all the more skeptical. Nevertheless, I have no definitive evidence disproving that it was not Thom Yorke, so I'm going to go along saying that I met him, because lets face it, that's pretty cool. Even after paying $80 for a one-day ticket.
(Note: The aforementioned picture of us and Thom Yorke was taken on a disposable black and white camera that has yet to be developed. As soon as a digital copy of said photo is issued to me, I will be sure to put it up in addition to the others.)

Later on that day, I was able to see a few very good performances by some noteworthy bands and artists. One could argue that the clientèle of Lollapalooza is getting very indie or very mainstream. I'm really not one to ask because, while there were quite a few bands that I had not heard of, there were several that I had heard of, but few would I call mainstream. Nevertheless, the point of the Lollapalooza festival is to rock, be it with bands who are well-known or not. I saw a very lively performance in a band called Aqueduct, which was at a smaller side stage, then later, I traversed the park to see the Roots at one of the two main stages, then went back to the other side to catch a glimpse of the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, and then set up camp for Muse, which was one of the headliners for Saturday night.
The way Lollapalooza is set up is there are a total of nine stages set up at different ends of the park, varying in size and placement. The two main stages are set up at far opposite ends of the park, with the smaller ones in between. They are staggered so that people can gather and collect in front of them, while other people pass by behind them. The performances are staggered as well, so that no band interferes with another. As a fan, one really has to pick and choose where to go because you're not going to be able to get up close for every band, especially if it is one of the more important crowd-drawing bands. The cool thing, though, is that bands are playing all day, so that if you choose to camp out in front of a stage all day, for instance to get a front and center view of Pearl Jam, you're not going to be left out in the cold, because there are a lot of good bands that play before the headliners, warming up the crowd and opening up the stage for them. Also, it was very hot and sunny when we did that. No cold in sight.

The Roots were spectacular. It is not very often one gets to see a performance live of a band where every member has such exceeding virtuosic talent to display. The Roots are the kind of a band where nothing is important to them except the music and giving the crowd what it wants. It will not be easy to forget how good they were. Though they are a hip hop act, they drew a large crowd at Lollapalooza, one I was at the back of, and they were in no shortage of rocking out.
The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs were nothing to write home about. I had to watch them if I was going to get close at all for Muse, which was probably what I was looking forward to the most the whole weekend, save for spending time with my cousins. Muse's performance definitely fulfilled my expectations for how awesome they could be. Another example of virtuosic talent and musicianship, especially by the lead singer/songwriter/guitarist/pianist Matthew Bellamy, Muse was by far the loudest and hardest rocking of the performances I saw that weekend. The only drawbacks to their amazing performance were the frequent mosh pitters and crowd surfers that come out only when a certain frequency is hit. Either that or people were just more tired on Sunday than on Saturday, which could be the case, since Saturday was overcast and rainy, while Sunday was sunny, hot, and humid.
As hot and humid as it may have been, Sunday was the day for Pearl Jam, and having already spent my $80 on another one-day ticket, there was no turning back, tired and sore as I was. The die-hard Pearl Jam fans, my cousins included, woke up early, on a mission to get to the gates a full three hours before they opened, in order to sprint to the stage and stake a claim to a front and center spot to see the legendary band perform. They had to fight through a crowd of people and a wet and rainy morning, which left puddles in their running path too vast to leap, but once they reached the rail, they knew they had made it. Meanwhile, I was back at the hotel, sleeping until 11:00. I didn't get to the gate until noon, and not to the stage until 12:30. I still managed to work my way up to the front, only a few bodies behind my cousins and their friends. I could see them and kind of talk to them.
There I waited. All day in the hot blistering sun with only one bottle of water I stood getting my arms sunburned. I sweat the water out faster than I could drink it. I knew I couldn't drink very quickly because if I left to go to the bathroom, I would never get back to my spot. I was by myself, even though, I could see my cousins. I did not know any of the people around me, though over the course of the day, a kind of bond was formed among me and the rest of this crowd, gathered all day long to see Pearl Jam up close. I casually got to know the people around me, as I observed and listened to their conversations while I stood there and had nobody to talk to. There was the obnoxious shirtless Asian guy next to me, who kept shouting things that didn't really make a whole lot of sense. I guess he was the entertainment for his group. There was the girl in front of me who I kind of admired as she read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. There were the four gentlemen in front of me who brought a flask concealed with alcohol for each of them, and an assortment of mixing ingredients. The guy next to me, who I found out was from the same town in New Jersey that I had just moved from, seemed to carry a satchel with an infinite amount of Vitamin Waters that made me so thirsty. I tried to get him to sell me one, but to no avail. He did offer to share a bit of his drinks with me, though, which was very kind of him. I tried every so often to get water from the security guys on the side who patrolled all along the side of the gates pouring water into people's mouths and then dumping the rest of the bottles on other people. At one point in the day, I passed a bottle of urine over the side in a relay of other trash so as to not step on it later when we would all be jumping around to the music of the rock band we had so religiously flocked to see.

Whether one likes Pearl Jam or not, one cannot argue with the effect they have had on the rock 'n roll culture over the past seventeen years. Eddie Vedder and his band are a force to be reckoned with. With a cult of followers, a massive fan club, and hoards of casual observers, they command the respect of millions of people, from the top record industry executives, to members of the press, to the smallest of children just beginning to learn about music and rock and roll. The way they gather disciples under their wing, if for nothing else than to listen to music, is uncanny, and they promote a message and a way of living that is unlike that of any other band out there.

After Pearl Jam vacated the stage, leaving the crowd to sing a capella any number of memorable Pearl Jam songs, I learned something. Perhaps there was something more powerful in place to bring all these people together in kindness. Maybe there is something special about Pearl Jam that has allowed them to continue gathering followers over the years, rather than die out like so many other bands of their generation. Perhaps it is something more than just the music alone. It is something that is cemented in seeing a band of such magnitude live in performance in front of me. I certainly learned a lot at my first time at Lollapalooza, and I wait on my anxious toes to learn even more.

My Vision

I am wearing my glasses right now. For the next two weeks, I have to go sans contact lenses. I am preparing to get LASIK corrective eye surgery, so in order to return my eyes to their natural shape, I cannot wear contacts. I have always hated wearing glasses, which is why I got contacts in the first place. Now contact lenses are taking their toll on me, and I feel a one-time corrective procedure is the way to go, so I won't have to struggle with contacts, glasses, or not being able to see for the next 30-40 years.
The problem with my glasses is they are not fashionable or relevant in any way. The frames I got when I was still in eighth grade, and the prescription has only been updated once since then. So needless to say, they don't help me very much, and they look horrible. I haven't been to the eye doctor for two years. I've been basically wearing my contacts until they wear out, and I'm finally down to my last pair.
Since I take very poor care of my eyes and don't see a doctor often, it only makes sense for me to get the surgery now. If successful, it would eliminate the need to see an eye doctor for quite a few years, and it would also cut out the constant maintenance of wearing contacts and buying contact solution and taking them out/putting them in/cleaning them every day and night. It really is a win-win situation, if it works out.
I really can't stand wearing glasses. It is a pain. Several people in my family wear glasses, and I did from third grade up until eighth grade. They are so annoying. They constantly slide off my nose, especially in the summer, on account that I sweat so much. They do not allow for any peripheral vision, which is a very discouraging and dangerous feature, when you think about it. They also add an extra article that I have to put on each day, in addition to my clothes. And they obstruct the view of my face, my beautiful, beautiful face. Alright, that's narcissistic and I may or may not be kidding, but seriously, they are really annoying.
I have to take them off when I take a shower, or if I need to wipe the sweat from my eyes, or if I don't want to be seen as a total dork. They fog up when addressed with changing weather conditions. And they are persistently pressing down on my nose, my delicate and sensitive nose. Above all this, wearing my glasses makes me very tired, I've come to find out. As soon as I put them on, I start yawning. I think this has been developed subconsciously. I haven't worn my glasses full time for years. I only wear them when I'm about to go to sleep or after I have just woken up, basically when I'm too lazy or tired to put in my contacts.
Walking around today, I was wearing my glasses and the sun was shining down. Wearing my glasses does not allow me to wear any sunglasses, which I love doing when it's sunny. Instead, I have to walk around constantly squinting or shielding my hand in front of my eyes in order to see. On top of being tired from wearing the glasses, they don't allow me to see as well as when I wear my contacts. It doesn't feel like anything is real. It feels as though I'm dreaming or I'm drunk. It is not a very safe or pleasant experience to be apart of trying to participate in real life.
The surgery is a natural choice for me, but I will be swimming in uncharted waters. I have never undergone even the most minor surgery, save dental work. I have never been completely knocked out. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little frightened. No one in my family has gotten the surgery. The only person I know firsthand is my roommate, Adam. He underwent the procedure nearly three years ago and often boasts that it was the best decision he made in his life. He had horrible vision prior to his surgery, and just about every person in his family has had to wear bug-eyed, coke bottle glasses in his or her lifetime. Since the surgery, Adam claims to have better than 20/20 vision. Also, according to him, the surgery is pretty painless. The only difficult part is the recovery, which involves wearing protective goggles in just about every arena.
We will see how well I do. I am intrepid. Though I have my hang ups about going into surgery voluntarily, it won't be the first time I'll be going through something I've never experienced before. The only thing I could see going wrong would be if some how the surgery got screwed up and I went blind completely.
I don't anticipate this, but if I were to go blind, I am prepared for what I would have to do. Although it would be a lot easier with eyesight, I would be forced to embrace my other senses and focus 100 percent on music, just like Stevie Wonder.
Stevie Wonder is something of an idol of mine. Even if he wasn't, he is a pretty inspirational figure as far as musical achievement. If I had to, I would become the next Stevie Wonder. Let's hope I don't have to. If I went blind, I probably wouldn't be able to keep writing this blog. There's no telling how much you'd miss that.