Haiti

Watching the devastation of events like the earthquake in Haiti reminds me of the stories I will potentially have to cover in the near future. It is harrowing to think that amongst the injured and homeless that there is a story to be told. It is also a bold recognition of the people's need-to-know mentality in society today. Without reporters on the ground, we would have no images, no stories, no tangible evidence of this extraordinary event.

To some, it may seem heartless to walk through the streets of Port Au Prince tonight with a camera and a microphone. But to me, it is necessary. These are people whose needs are great and supplies are slim. These are people whose homes have been lost, whose families have been fractured, and whose world has come crashing down. These are stories that need to be told to as many as possible.

I cringe when I see the footage on CNN of dead bodies laying on the side of the road, but I also feel a sense of purpose, knowing that I have made the right decision in my choice of career. I want to tell these stories.

It is cynical to say that more disasters will come, but we all know that it is true. We can only hope that our response is strong, well-guided, and swift. When those disasters come, I hope to be able to tell the stories of those people caught within them. That is the nature of journalism, and I will take up that challenge with no restraint, ensuring that I do all I can to convey the true nature of events and the full weight of human sorrow.

The pictures will continue to come from Haiti for the weeks and months to come, just as they came from New Orleans some time ago. When they do, take time to cherish what you have, what you one day may achieve, and how lucky we are to live where we do now.

Text HAITI to 90999 to donate $10 to the Red Cross and its international aid fund.

Stuff My Kids Should Know: The Beginning

I've decided to start a new segment on the blog called "Stuff My Kid Should Know". The idea is fairly simple and obvious but I'll lay it out for you because it takes up inches: From time to time I will post stories, facts, or other random tidbits that my future children should know. Sometimes it may be a link, other times it could be a whole story; it really depends on that given tidbit.

Sound cool? No? Well shove it, 'cuz I'm doing it anyway.

Also, just to clear this up before it becomes a thing, no, I do not have any children. Please don't get concerned about that.

Since this is our first installment, we'll start out simple...

Hey kid, how are ya? Unfortunately for you, I'm your dad. I always knew this day was coming, so I figured I'd keep a list of things you should know about. Today I figured we could talk about who was almost president. Right now our president is Barack Obama, but it was almost John McCain. And since he's just about ready to keel over faster than a teenager watching "2 Girls 1 Cup", his running mate, Sarah Palin would've assumed the presidency.


You know how you put all those shapes in the right order on that puzzle the other day? Yeah, I'd be surprised if she could do that. She isn't wise, is basically what I'm getting at here. 


Yesterday she became a commentator for Fox News, which isn't really a new channel (but that's neither here nor there). This is massively exciting for sane people, little kiddie, because it means all the stupid stuff she says will be forever on videotape and the internet. It also basically rules her out of having any chance at trying to be president in 2012. That is why I am rejoicing today, and you should now as you read this.


Because that, my kid who isn't yet born, is something you should know.

An Ode to Nameless Church Ladies

I can never remember her name. Or hers. Or hers. And sometimes I forget his too. I speak, of course, of the people who know you that you don't know.

It happens in a lot of different ways. For myself, it was a widely published local column (I swear that isn't actually an oxymoron). For others it could be a well-known parent or a successful athletic career in high school. No matter the way it happens, it always feels like more people know you than you know of.

At times, this phenomenon has proven to be extremely awkward; at others it has proven beneficial in helping connect to people or get things done. Sometimes it's just plain fun.

But the people I have this problem with most are the nameless church ladies. They aren't nameless of course, they do all have names (and fantastic ones I'm sure). But ever since I left for college two and a half years ago, I have struggled to maintain the name-remembering skills of my high school days.

Faces, sure, I can do those. I always recognize them as they approach. Names? Not so much.

"Hey Rob, welcome back." (This means they know I was in London... or maybe just at Ithaca. Doesn't narrow down much.)

"How was England?" (Okay, that one helps a bit more. The key here is to figure out who provided the information, and then link from there.)

"I hear you've been doing some pretty amazing things." (Yea, that came from my mom. So that narrows it down... oh... not at all, considering she works at the church and knows everyone.)

I think you can see where this is going. The more time I've spent away from home the less names I can recall, yet the more faces I remember. It is a completely evil situation, and one that I certainly do not wish upon anyone (except Bin Laden, natch).

[Puts on deep announcer voice] So here's to you, nameless church lady. Thanks to you I feel guilty for not remembering your name. Keep up the good work.

Enjoy the BCS Sham-pionship tomorrow night (I made that up all by myself! Mom says I'm a big kid now!).

100th Post Party!

Whoo! 100 posts! Whooooooo! Break out the drinks! Let's hit up the boozengaarden to celebrate!

...And by let's, which is "let us", I mean you.

How am I celebrating? With the following video, which I helped out with about seven or eight months ago and honestly completely forgot about until it popped up online just the other day. Check out the other videos on the site too, they're pretty funny.

So here's to my blog hitting the century mark, hopefully you'll enjoy this short clip...


Tug from Avenger_Comedy on Vimeo.


Go enjoy Sherlock Holmes like I did this afternoon. Or you could see the Squeakquel. I guess it's kind of a wash.

Resolutions

I didn't resolve anything this year. No weight loss on the horizon or book reading in my future. At least, not because of resolutions.

I don't think people need resolutions. To be fair, maybe some people do. But it shouldn't take a day on the calendar to remind us of who we should be; we should just do it. (Damn it, Nike. The check is in the mail.)

I feel that resolutions are really excuses. If we fail, we just push it back a year. Or two. Or a decade. Small decisions become life-deciding ones, and the whole world keeps on spinnin'.

But we lose something in that small concession. We lose a piece of humanity I think. The world slowly chips away at us and over time we just sit along for the ride.

Let's buck that concession. Let's keep that extra piece of sanity. And let's stop making excuses.

We are what we are. Am I perfect? Not in a million years. But neither are you. (I'll let that sink in for a minute... okay.) Why can't we all admit that and move forward, together, as one?

In 2010, let's check the egos at the door. The excuses at the door. And the posturing, let's leave that outside as well. It's the start of a new decade (even though it technically isn't, which is an argument for another time) so what better time is there to read that book or shed those pounds?

3 Doors Down once wrote a song called Live for Today and in a column at the time I called its lyrics inspirational. I think they still are, so Google it and see what I mean.

For now, watch out twentyten, I got this.

Enjoy the Eagles and those new pajamas.

Seeing London

The station felt like it was empty, probably because it was. I was alone, surveying the empty track that would soon provide me a short ride to the next station on the line. That next station would be the end.

Not the end of my journey on that specific day, for I would have to return to my flat eventually, but to a personal vendetta I had against myself. Or so it would seem.

Everyone wanted to go somewhere for fall break, including myself. When we arrived in London we all had grand visions of sandy (potentially topless) beaches, real Italian dinners or nights under the Eiffel Tower lights. However, the sad truth of reality soon set in, which meant a rush for discount tickets, extra cheap accommodations and maybe, just maybe, the chance to still see some of those topless beaches.

It became apparent very quickly that I would not be going anywhere for fall break. I simply didn’t have the funds. At first I sulked, like all good college students do, but then I took it as an opportunity, a challenge even. A chance to do something no one else could say they had done when they went home for winter break.

And it is with that notion that I set out on what would be a 28 hour journey over the course of three days. I wanted to go to every underground Tube station in London’s Zones 1 and 2. I wanted to leave every station to take a photo to prove I was there. To whom was I proving this? I wasn’t quite sure, but I knew I wanted to prove it anyway.

At the starting point, Marble Arch, my home station, it was awkward. I was using my cell phone from the States as my camera because I don’t own a real one. I had a backpack on and lots of layers because it was a little chilly. I stopped outside the main entrance and did my best version of a MySpace self-picture pose. I was very aware of the eyes around me, staring down the weird kid with the beard and baseball cap. This was going to be interesting.

Five stops later, I was wearing half as many layers, rocking a set of headphones and in the zone, now aware my task was becoming quite the mission. To finish 154 stations (every one in the first two zones except Blackfriars which is closed until 2011) would take much longer than previously anticipated. I also went in without much of a plan; just a tube map to cross off each station on and a notebook to keep track of time. Two hours went by. Then four. It was past lunch time, so I snacked on some chips and kept on going. Underground it was like time stood still. I could travel from station to station, exit, snap a picture and get back onto the tube generally before the next train had even come. I cut out an hour each day by walking up and down the escalators. I became a professional at something few would ever want to be a professional at. Train riding should be listed on my next CV.

After my first day I’d completed 45 stations. I had to retrace stations a few times, which wasn’t very efficient, so I rethought my lack of a plan and decided to make one. I split London into my own set of zones- Northeast (which I covered the first day), Southeast, and West. There weren’t enough lines west of London to split it easily.

Day two took me to the Southeast, including the Docklands Light Rail, or DLR. Ten hours. 73 stations. In the words of, well, I don’t know who said it actually, I made the London Underground my personal play toy. I owned it. It became clear my mission could potentially be completed. And by day three, it was.

Another 36 stations and eight hours clinched the trek. As I snapped my final photo and dusk set in over London, my phone rang. It was my girlfriend.

“Hey, Dublin and Brussels were amazing! Berlin is good so far too! What have you been up to?”

“Nothing really.”

I took a look around at a section of city I will probably never see again. Then, I walked back down to the trains.

Looking back I can finally understand the point of my journey. Ever since I was tripping over my OshKosh overalls I’ve loved a good story. It’s why I am a journalist, or at least trying to be one. Exceptional stories are the ones that don’t make the front page headlines; they’re the ones all around us. Like a divorced mom raising two kids while getting another degree at 50; a sister trying to make the high school bowling team; a first date, first kiss, first love. These are the stories that we love telling but seldom hear. The stories that are timeless. The stories of our lives.

Just like the kid that spent 30 hours on a train simply because he could.

I'm Back!

I've migrated back to this blog from my Ithacan blog that I worked on this fall. It was challenging to write three posts a week and I feel like at times it also caused my content to suffer. Over the next few weeks I'll be posting back here again, but in the mean time check out a video of something I did over break:

I'll have a wrap up on this video posted soon.

Enjoy long flights and Christmas lights.